“I’ll go first.”
TWENTY-SIX
Nova
Aleks picked up the dagger before I could disagree, making his way to a stretch of blank wall that the woman indicated.
Speak, said the floating voice.
After a pause, he spoke—only to have his voice swept into the current of whispers once more rising around us.
But then I noticed faint words appearing on the wall before him.
With trancelike movements, Aleks lifted the knife and began to carve, following the lines and curves of the ghostly letters. The blade cut into the surface as if it was made of clay rather than stone.
I held my breath as I stepped closer, reading what eventually blazed clear and bright before us.
I’m afraid of what I’m becoming.
The blindfolded woman followed his every movement. As he finished carving the last letter, her lips twisted—a frightening smile. Then came that voice that floated high above all the other whispers:Deeper.
Aleks spoke again, but this time, as his words flickered onto the wall, he clenched the dagger to his chest, fighting the urge to carve his second truth into permanence.
His breathing grew labored. His balance swayed as he tried to turn away only to freeze mid-step, as if bound by an invisible chain. Every attempt to move away from the wall ended the same way. The dagger shook in his hand, its tip tilting dangerously close to his chest; I worried he might carve straight into his heart in an attempt to free himself.
Thalia’s somber warning rushed to the front of my mind?—
People have gone mad trying to resist it.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, hurriedly moving closer to him. “We can turn around. We can find another way to get what we need.”
The woman in white looked at me. Even though I couldn’t see her eyes, I felt as if her gaze was spearing me straight through.
Aleks placed a hand on my arm, stepping between me and the woman as if to protect me, even as he continued to struggle against the compulsions tearing through him.
“Aleks, I…”
He stilled at the sound of my wavering voice. “I’m fine.”
Concern continued to gnaw at my insides, but I didn’t try to stop him as he stepped forward, his movements slow but turning steady once more as he reached toward the wall.
More words appeared, each letter like a drop of blood forcibly squeezed from his veins:
I had a dream. A vision where I hurt her. I hurt all of them. The dead were too many to count.
I watched his hand moving over the confession. The way the knife trembled in his hold, his knuckles white with the force of his grip.
Softly, I said, “It’s not true, Aleks. The future is impossible to predict with certainty, you know that. This is all just your fear talking.”
But he didn’t seem to hear me.
He just kept carving, oblivious to the horrified expression overtaking my face as he dug deeper and more violently into the wall.
Dead. So many dead.She isn’t safe.I can’t keep her safe. I have to leave her.
The sense of dread radiating from him was suffocating. He clenched the knife tighter still. His tracings of the glowing letters grew messier and messier, but he kept going with terrible determination.
He carved every last word.
