“Fine,” I huff. “I would, I guess. To get out of this cycle. Yeah. I’d rather spend eternity in some fantasy ice castle with people who traded me for the power to leave this world for good than keep going as the horse and rider.”
“The ouroboros, you mean.”
I wave a hand in the air. “Whatever.”
“Let’s return to our bullet points.” She smiles. “Five. In order to break your cycle you must kill them all, Syrsee. Ryet, Josep, and Paul. Then, and only then, will you be free.”
But it’s a lie. I canfeelthis lie. Because she left something out. Something I can’t really articulate, and I know almost nothing about, but she hasn’t evenmentionedthe Obscurati. Who must have a part of me as well. So it’s a lie.
Lucia is shaking her head. “That’s not what’s happening here, Syrsee. Paulmadeyou. You are a brand-newCoyrah brought to life by the Darkness itself and living inside that baby you’re carrying right now.”
“So who is the Black witch across the ocean?”
“Not a who, but a what. It is a bloodline that is too dilute to continue. Something that was merely dying, but will soon be dead.”
“Six,” I say, continuing the bullet points. “How do I kill them?”
Lucia smiles, and my God, it is evil. “You feed them the dead Black blood. There’s a vial in Josep’s cave. He brought it with him from the Old World. Paul used that blood to coerce him into joining up on this quest. Find it. Drink it. And let them feed. One and done.”
“Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Syrsee.”
Lucia is gone now and in her place is Paul. I’m no longer standing on the ice, but lying in a bed next to him.
It’s a nice room, at least.
We’re both staring at the ceiling, quiet for a few moments.
I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but everything Lucia just told me is swirling through my head like a cyclone.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “I take it you know now?”
I’m surprised at these words. “You and Lucia planned this?”
“Of course not.” He snickers these words out. “Lucia is a tool, not a confidante. But she is part of the plan. Her betrayal of me, at least.”
“So you know she wants me to kill you?”
“She’s wanted me dead for hundreds of years.”
“She wants me to drink Black blood and feed you all. This is your plan?”
“No.” And he chuckles. “My plan is to save Ryet.”
“What about me?”
“Well, if he’s alive, dear Syrsee, then you are too. He cannot exist without you.”
“What about you?”
“Oh, I don’t matter much.” He turns his head to look at me now. “Don’t worry about me, Syrsee. I can take care of myself.”
“How many?” I ask. “How many of me are there right now in the world?”
Paul sucks in a breath, like he’s silently counting. “Well, I have three.”
“Three? Assuming this baby inside me counts as one, where’s the third me?”
“She’s a baby still. Only two. She’s living up in White River with my clan.”
