But when I glance down at Clara Birch, she’s smirking like a girl who hasn’t got a care in the world. “What the hell are you smilin’ about?”
She really is smiling. And it grows bigger now. “Just… even if it doesn’t work, I want you to know… I appreciate the effort.”
Which makes me smile too. “Hey. What can I say? I’m a fighter.”
I get an even bigger smile—which actually comes with a blush. “Yeah. And trust me, I’m taking notes for later. When a man pledges to save me, it come with a reward regardless of whether or not he succeeds.”
“Oh, my god,” Anneeta moans. “Can you two save it for later, please?”
I pan a hand at the door. “Lead the way, ya little spark-sucker.”
She pulls a face at the insult, but Anneeta doesn’t say anything else. Just opens and leads the way into a dark hallway. The lights do not come on, but there’s power in here. Indicator lights on unseen pieces of equipment let off enough glow to allow us to see shadows.
When a weird smell hits my nose, I understand why there are no lights. Anneeta’s keeping the them off on purpose because she doesn’t want Clara to see the remnants of her friends. Whether they are shriveled-up skin suits, decaying meat sacks, or just bones—Anneeta knows better than to divulge this dark part of her inhuman soul.
If she even has a soul. Which, according to some—most, actually—gods do not. Because they are made by man and not created with spark like the rest of us. That’s why she has tofeed. To fill up the empty spaces inside her that make Anneeta something…other.
And again, I can’t help feeling the connection between her and I. I was born human, but I was made into something else. It’s not the same, but it might as well be.
Clara is sniffing the air as we walk. She knows where we are. She’s right in front of me, Anneeta leading us both, and I’ve got my hand on her shoulder, urging her forward around and past the dark shadows.
But suddenly, my augments come alive. It’s so unexpected and such bad timing that I take a step back. Then, without warning, the overlay is everywhere and when I look, I see that Clara is standing a little bit apart from us with one hand raised in the air. It’s lit up with cyan-blue symbols and there is spark leaking out of her like a trickle of water might leak out of a hose.
If a trickle of water could defy gravity, that is. Because her spark is aimed upward. And there’s only one reason for this.
She wants to light up the room.
She wants tosee.
“Clara…” But there’s nothing Anneeta can say. Not at this point. So she doesn’t get past Clara’s name.
Clara, to her credit, is in complete control of her emotions. And once again, I see that training she’s had. It goes far beyond politeness and manners. It’s self-restraint, and composure, and discipline.
Any other woman—hell, even a man, probably—would be losing their shit right now if they were looking at the remnants of their friends on the floor and they didn’t have her training.
Anneeta sighs. Then, unexpectedly, she gives up. “Forget it. You two go. I’m staying.”
I’m ready for this. I’m all for it. So I’m not about to argue with her. I reach for the hand Clara’s not holding up in the air, but she shakes me off and turns to face Anneeta.
I hold my breath, wondering what she’s gonna say.
Anneeta looks up at her and then breaks. Starting to cry. Because what is there to say?
There are bodies on the floor in different stages of decomposition. There are bones. There is skin. There is some flesh.
Still, Clara hasn’t decided what to say yet. She just stares at the hungry little god like she’s running scenarios through her head the way I used to when I was in Sweep.
Hell, what do I know about Spark Maidens? Maybe they can run scenarios in their heads?
Clara sighs. Then looks over her shoulder at me. “One of them is missing. Haryet is missing.”
“I told you!” Anneeta is overreacting. Like a child might. Which, of course, she is. So these words come out too loud and with too much emphasis. She’s also sobbing. “I didn’t see her! I didn’t feed on her!I’m not even hungry!” She screams this last part.
Clara does not so much has flinch. She is the definition of temperance. She takes one step towards Anneeta and points at her. The spark is still spilling out of Clara’s finger, but it doesn’t reach all the way to Anneeta. “I believe you.” Clara’s words are calm. Soothing, even. “We’re never gonna talk about this again. But I’m making a rule right now. If youever”—I can’t see Clara narrowing her eyes, but I know she is—“ever—steal spark from someone, I will end you. I will fill you up with spark until you explode. I don’t care if it happens next week, or next year, or next life time. You have a new rule, Anneeta the god of Tau City Tower Ruin. And your rule is you will never, ever again take someone’s spark without permission. That’s whatanimalsdo.”
Anneeta recoils, gasping.
I might have things in common with her, but I don’t know what kind of existential crises a little god might grapple with. If Ihad to guess, though, I’d imagine there’d be a lot of angst inside this girl about what sheis. And more importantly, what sheisn’t.
