I tapped Finn’s arm and nodded to the back wall. One eyebrow rose in acknowledgment.
“I want to give you your freedom,” the mine said, smiling at our awareness of the doorless, windowless room. “Did you think you were here to fight?”
“It seemed likely.” Finn held his hands loose at his sides, ready.
The mine scoffed. “No. That battle is done. Look.”
He gestured to the far wall. An image was projected on the concrete. It was Earth—all the oceans, all the continents, all the mountains, all the fields, all the nations, and all the people. The projection flew over the decimated, war-torn world and showed the sun rising over New York. Finn and I stood together, holding hands, on top of the Smith Fortress.
“Look,” the mine said. “You’re free. And when you’re free, you’ll rule the world. The two of you. Together. Everything you want will be yours. Every desire will be fulfilled. Every wish satisfied. You’ll be free at last. Free to create the world you want. All you have to do . . .”
I stared at the image of Finn and me holding hands, wondering what I found so odd about my features. Then I realized what it was. I looked peaceful. Placid. Free of worry, stress, fear. I’d never seen myself with that expression. It didn’t look real. Worse, there wasn’t any love in my gaze. It was the uncaring immutability of stone.
How could I look that way when the world the mine had shown us was scarred and torn? How could I look placid and uncaring if I was holding Finn’s hand, free to love?
Finn shook his head. “Those things aren’t yours to give.”
“Aren’t they?”
Finn closed his moss-green eye and stared at the mine through his solange-soaked one. After a moment, his mouth tightened, and he made a small, surprised noise. “I see. What is it we’d have to do?” He reached over and gripped my hand. His hold was tight.
“You, my dear Smith, would pledge yourself to me. Just a little blood. Just a tiny oath. And then, you both would be free.” He flicked his long, milk-gray fingers at the projection. “Think of it. You would rule the world.”
Finn ignored the image and instead focused on the mine. His hand tightened, squeezing my fingers. “If I pledge to you, she’ll be free? You swear it? This will break the leggerock’s hold?”
I went to protest, but Finn’s grip tightened so much I winced. At my indrawn breath, his hand loosened, and he traced a slow circle on the palm of my hand.
“I don’t want to rule the world,” I said.
The mine gave me a startled glance. It was the first time I’d ever spoken to him.
“And it isn’t freedom if you’re exchanging one set of shackles for another. Whatever this is,” I said to Finn, “don’t.”
The mine stood, gliding toward Finn, his sagging skin filling the gray lines of his clothing. He pulled a knife free. It was obsidian, like Jagger’s, only larger.
“Smith. She’s nearly free. You can see it. Close your eye and view it. Just one last thread to be clipped.” He held the knife out to Finn, the dagger’s point glistening in the cold fluorescence.
There wasn’t any wind, but the mine’s clothing still rustled, dragging out musty, mold-damp odors that made my nausea rise.
Finn stared at the knife as if he couldn’t decide whether it was our savior or our executioner.
“She’ll be free?” Finn asked, his thumb circling my palm, tracing a figure eight. “She’ll no longer be a mine? You swear?”
“I don’t swear. You’ll have to take my word for it. You’ve already given four years of your life for the tickets.”
I glanced at Finn, frowning at the stiffening of his shoulders.
“Now the trip is done. You’ve arrived at your destination. Do what you came for. Free her.”
Finn’s eyelashes tilted down, covering his moss-colored green and his starry, solange-blue eyes.
“Mari—” he whispered, halting his circling caress.
The intimate way he said my name reminded me of how he’d said it right before he took Jagger’s bargain. As if my name were every good thing in the world wrapped in two syllables. It was biting into a cold plum on a hot day. It was the rumble of thunder after a long drought. It was a kiss that felt like the first and the last.
He’d said “Mari” just like that before he’d taken Jagger’s bargain.
But that bargain had ended in both of our deaths.
