‘Max? But why? Tony has done nothing to him.’
‘We don’t know. The chevaliers are searching for Max to question him. I’ve known Max a long time. He is petty and selfish. My guess is he was angry with you and decided to hurt someone you cared about.’
Marianne’s admission lands on my chest with the weight of a mountain, dislodging the rest of Marianne’s description from my memory:Highly contagious... any mortal showing symptoms is immediately culled.
I huddle protectively over Tony. ‘Mémère swore my friends would be safe and unharmed.’
Tony groans under me. His eyes flutter, then open. I cradle his face, but at my touch he recoils, tumbles off the stone slab.
‘Be careful!’ I reach out, meaning to help him, but the terror in his gaze freezes me in place.
‘Tony?’ I say uncertainly.
He shakes his head, as if trying to clear out cobwebs. Like before, it takes him a moment to recognise me. ‘Jing?’ He grabs my hand. ‘Where are we?’
‘In the catacombs,’ Marianne answers.
Tony swings his head towards her voice like a blind animal. ‘What have you done to me?’ he growls.
He grips my hand so tight his knuckles are white. ‘Don’t let go, Jing.’ There’s a desperate edge to his voice. He turns his head towards me, but his gaze is cloudy and unfocused. ‘I can’t see.’
‘What’s wrong with his eyes?’ I ask.
‘His organs are giving out. First his sight will go, then his mind. He won’t be lucid for much longer.’ She gentles her voice.‘We have a duty to all those living under our protection. We have to let Tony go; there is no other way.’
Mist sparkles in the low light; Mémère appears beside Marianne. I glower at the both of them. Tony needs a hospital, not this dank stone cell. But we’re trapped; the only way in or out of this room is by mist. The best I can do is move us so the wall is at our back.
Tony leans against me, lifts a hand to my face. His fingers are scalding hot against my cheek. ‘Jing, don’t cry.’ His eyes roll back and he slumps in my arms.
‘Tony!’ I shake him. ‘Please, wake up.’
His eyes flutter, slowly open.
Relief courses through me. ‘Stay with me, okay?’
But this time, Tony cowers at my voice. ‘What’s happening? Who are you?’
His fear and confusion cracks my chest wide open, shredding my heart raw.
‘No, no, no. Tony, it’s me, Jing.’
He pushes at me, trying to get away, getting more and more hysterical until he curls in on himself, whimpering.
Rage fills me. ‘You will not touch him.’ The words are a low growl.
‘There is no other way, Jing,’ Marianne says. ‘This sickness cannot spread.’
Mémère puts a hand on Marianne’s arm, murmuring low.
Marianne says, ‘Mémère will release his soul herself. He won’t feel any pain. She is quick and exact.’
‘I won’t let you kill him.’
Marianne translates. I see the moment Mémère understands because her gaze hardens with resolve and the air around her shimmers.
‘Wait!’ I bark. ‘If you take his life, you forsake mine.’ I hold Tony even tighter. His every cry and whimper slices my heart.
Marianne translates. The mist dissipates; Mémère stays where she is, for now. My mind races, searching for options, and finding only one. The question is, will it work?
