He saidwhat now?
It was like he’d lit a fire in my belly, that gave me enough fuel to burn. I wasn’t sad. I waspissed,which was a whole lot better. Because pissed off and filled with hope was a combination I could work with.
It still sucked that I couldn’t talk, while I could see all the stuff that was going wrong around me. For one thing, Gavriel had lost his strength when I had. Rumple set me down gently on a chair, and I watched as he pulled Gavriel up off the floor, handing him the sword he’d dropped.
Gavriel couldn’t lift it. He barely managed to keep his grip on it.
Fudge. Oh, great, steaming slabs of cow fudge.How were we going to get to the Great Gate if I was paralyzed, Gav was weak as a kitten, and Rumple was… well, he seemed fine.Hmph.Why did he get to be strong and buff and the rest of us dead weight?
Well, not dead yet.
“Do you think you can push a wheelbarrow?” Rumple asked Gavriel, shooting me a considering look I did not like at all. I remembered a life where I’d shelled wild pecans with the village blacksmith’s sons, and tried to picture cracking the nuts. But Rumple wasn’t reading my thoughts. He was plotting.
Gavriel nodded. “I can try.” He grabbed the back of a chair to remain standing while Rumple ran across the workshop and grabbed a decent-sized wheelbarrow, dumping out a roll of burlap, metal rivets and cuttings. He wheeled the thing over to me, and—as if he didn’t know I would unmake him the instant I got free in retaliation—dumped me into it.
“Gav, take the handles,” he commanded.
No. Forking. Way. He was not going to cart me through Sanctuary in a wheelbarrow, like a load of dung. If he would just look at my memories, he would see my idea. The key was the key!Crack open my Celestial walnut, idiot!
My head jostled to the side, and suddenly I was nose-down in a moldy, dusty bucket. I needed to sneeze so badly, but I literally didn’t have the energy to do it.
“Is she all right?” Gav asked.
“She’s fine. Probably likes it,” Rumple said teasingly.
I instantly began picturing all the times I’d killed a perpetrator on Earth, all the times I’d stuck a knife up under a ribcage and thrust through the heart. And I put Rumple’s face on them.
“I love you, too, honey bunch,” he said, pecking me on the head. I let my rage show in my eyes, and remembered the time I’d smashed open a coconut on a beach on Vanua Levu. I’d almost broken my foot doing it, but the way it cracked and all the milk flew out… By the time I got to that part of the memory, Rumple had turned away.
Shizzgrits and sausage patties.This was worse than the time I’d scavenged some old grain and got ergot rye poisoning. I’d been paralyzed, but my neighbor’s daughter had thought I was faking being sick, and shaved all my hair off while I lay there. It had gotten rid of my head lice in that life, though.
Maybe something good was coming here, too. I tried to pretend the funky smell was pleasant, like horse poop. It wasn’t a bad smell on its own, and it made me remember the cute stableboy in France who had actually lasted almost two min—Whoops!I’d started moving as Gavriel began to push the wheelbarrow toward the door, then stopped abruptly.
“I can’t. Rafe. I’m too weak.”
“Can you draw more from Sanctuary? Siphon the energy you need?”
Gavriel’s short laugh was devoid of any humor. “I think I would be catatonic like my mate if I hadn’t immediately opened that connection. I’m pulling as much as I can without cauterizingmy soul. Internally, I’m already burned; if I survive this, it’ll take decades to heal.”
“Shit. Of course you are. I’m sorry.” Rumple dragged a clawed hand across his forehead, muttering, “Think.Think.” I remembered a medical video I’d seen years ago where they cranked open a ribcage to do open heart surgery, and Rumple sighed heavily. “She keeps trying to tell me she’s broken. That her heart is broken. It’s… wait. Could you carry her if I tie her to you?” he asked Gavriel abruptly. “Can you walk and not drop her?”
“I think so,” Gavriel answered. “You’re able to fight with both swords, I remember. What will we tie her with?”
MY SHEETS,I thought as loud as I could. I brought forth every memory of my gorgeous beds in Sanctuary, remembering how I’d wrapped myself in those perfect linens, how I’d rubbed them all over me.USE MY SHEETS.
“I’ll get some of that extra muslin I found. It should be strong enough.”
Muslin? What muslin? Wait, does he mean the burlap?I stared knives into their souls while Rumple wrapped me in the scratchiest, worst fabric ever to be invented, while my sheets—my strong, lustrous, million-thread-count sheets that smelled of Mikhail and Righteous and me—lay gleaming on the bed.
It was one of the most pointless sacrifices of my life. Of all my lives.
Finally, Rumple had me trussed up like an enormous baby in one of those cloth baby carriers, hugging the front of Gavriel’s chest. I could hardly see anything, and it was so tempting to close my eyes, just to escape the humiliation of it all. But I didn’t. I listened.
“Stay behind me. I’ll go out and engage them. When I’ve drawn them off, run for the gate.”
“Should we douse ourselves in dark glitter again? Even if I can run, they’ll be drawn to us like this. Look at the walls, Rafe.” I knew what he meant; facing inward, the shine from Gavriel was eye-watering. The effects of a recent significant sacrifice. Weirdly though, there was as much light seeping from his back, which was still wrapped in bandages. I hadn’t noticed that in bed, but now, from the corners of my eyes I could see prisms dancing on all the surfaces in the room. The dim Maker Hall sparkled like one of Mikhail’s t-shirts.
It gave me an idea. I only hoped Rumple would check back into my thoughts before he opened the doors. I tried to remember every rave and wild party I’d ever been to, or watched on TV, or streamed. Every single instance of glitter. And then I called up older memories, of signals on watchtowers with mirrors, and blinding opponent armies with polished shields.
