He was gone. He was dead. Someone had killed him. Someone had ripped his life away, and they’d done it violently.
I grasped for the thread, trying to find the glow of it. The tighter I grabbed, the more quickly the memory of it slipped through my fingers.
A door in my mind slammed open. It’d been hidden and locked by my brother. The night he’d pulled me out of Rockefeller plaza opened up before me. I remembered how we’d laughed. How we’d shared. How it had felt to have a brother. He’d loved me. I’d loved him.
Anguish tore through me, filling the hole where our thread had been.
I sobbed, choking on a breath, and tried to shove myself upright.
He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. I’d not received any influx of power. There was no river. There was no raging storm. There was only the absence of him.
Nothing more.
I clung to the hope.
He wasn’t dead.
Something was wrong, but he wasn’t gone.
In the barrage of ice and fire, Celia shuddered and convulsed on the ground. Luvic and Ragnor stood over her, shielding her with a violent, wrathful song.
Jagger’s attention focused on me. His blood snapped at Jacob’s memories, devouring the love and the joy. Jagger sprang across the rubble. He grabbed my shirt and yanked me to my feet. He looked me in my eyes, his own flat gray slits widening.
“What is this?” he asked, shaking me. “What is this?”
I glanced over his shoulder at Finn.
The good Finn was pinned beneath the cruel one. He’d been distracted by my cries. I’d been wrong. I’d said both Finns had only strengths, and no weaknesses. But my Finn had a weakness. His weakness was that he was mine.
“Mari,” he said.
I held his gaze, and Jagger laughed. “Do it,” he said. “Do what you promised to do.”
His gray lips curled, and he called to Finn, “Smith. Did you think you would win her freedom? She is mine. The second you stole her into your dreams, she told me. The moment you told her you were setting her free, she let me know. Did you think she has any secrets from me? I know everything. You haven’t freed her. She doesn’t want to be free. She wants you to die.”
Jagger dropped me to the ground. I landed lightly on my feet.
“Do it,” he said.
Finn’s expression turned to surprise. Then acceptance. Then, a million hurried calculations rushed through his eyes.
He was still trying to figure out how to save me, even though Jagger had just told him I’d betrayed him. That every time he’d pulled me into a dream, I’d told Jagger every little detail. I hadn’t held anything back. I hadn’t known if it was real or not, but that hadn’t stopped me from telling Jagger everything.
I’d told Finn not to trust me.
I told you.
You can never trust a mine.
Jagger flicked his hand—the gesture he gave when prompting an execution.
“Finn,” I said, looking the corrupt one in the eyes. “Didn’t you say you wanted to kill me? Look around. The world’s burning. What are you waiting for?”
The corrupt Finn shoved off my Finn and twisted toward me. He flicked his hand. I didn’t untie his knots.
A stream of fire raced toward Jagger and me.
“No!” my Finn cried. He tackled himself, twisting his own hand. I pulled his knots free.
