The Tragedy of Knowledge (18 page)

Scarlet stood over me, staring down in satisfaction. “Aw, are you hoping your friends will come for you?” Her bitter laugh cut through me, and I could feel her crouch down again, the slide of the blade audible at my ear as she dragged it through the dirt. She picked it up and gripped it firmly, her voice beside me, breath hot on my cheek. “Well don’t waste your breath. They’re all dead.”

“No!” I refused to listen, rejected her words and forced them to flee. “I don’t believe you.”

“No?” The ground began to shake and a tumultuous thundering raged in the distance, calling her attention toward Samira’s cathedral on the hill, her eyes scanning the gates. She snapped her head back to me, and she was beaming. “See for yourself.”

She tilted my head to align my vision with the bottom of the cathedral’s hill, and my gaze climbed the valley’s incline and landed on the gates at the very top, where packs of marching bodies joined together in formation.

“No!” I cried out. “No! What have you done?” Audrey, Gabe and Arianna. No, they couldn’t be gone. They
couldn’t
. Gavin and Josh were just with me in the windmill. They didn’t go to join the others. They wouldn’t—not without coming for me first.
Damn it!
Why did Dali and Akim have to lock Samira up like that? Why were the streets deserted? My friends couldn’t have survived an army of that size at the frontlines.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Scarlet said, and gripped the dagger tighter between both hands. “As soon as the ritual is complete, you’ll no longer be needed. In the meantime … I’d be cruel to let you miss the show.” Winking down at me, she raised her arms and slammed down, plunging the knife into my stomach again, drawing another fierce scream from my lips. All hopes of regaining a shred of mobility were lost when the silver struck; the paralyzing effect planted an even deeper seed as it lodged deep. I could barely lift my chin, let alone my fingers or feet.

Scarlet sprang to her feet and flew off toward the gates, and the thundering continued to roar, the ground beneath me vibrating to the march of the enemy’s beating drum.

“Camille!” My eyelids fluttered at the sound as it came from behind me, the voice strained and distant. “Camille, can you hear me?”

“Gavin?” I croaked, pushing out my voice as hard as I could. Where was he? He sounded so far away. My vision began to blur.

“Camille, the book!” His voice grew closer, and so did the sound of the marching. A warmth was beginning to spread beneath me, a soft, rattling humming against my back. “The Book of the Ancients!” I listened as his voice grew louder, more pronounced, and then felt light all around me. My eyes widened and I could see the light—golden, blinding light. Finally, a shadow loomed over me, and the voice was now clear. “Baby, I’m here.” He moved to lift me up into his arms, stumbling at first. He kissed every inch of my face, tears and sweat on his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” My voice cracked, the paralysis making it difficult to speak.

“I’m still having a hard time moving. It took me forever to get down this hill. I don’t know what the hell she did to me up in the windmill.”

“She’s … taking
overrrr
.”

“What, baby?” He leaned in closer, yanking the dagger from my flesh. “You’re too weak. The paralysis will wear off in a bit. We have to move.” He rolled me to the left and pulled the Book of the Ancients from my bag, which was still attached to my back. It was glowing so brightly, I had to squint to look at it. Stuffing it underneath his arm, he scooped me up and cradled me against his chest, then started back uphill, toward the windmill.

“They’re getting close,” I choked out as he carried me. He’d stumble every few seconds, stopping to steady himself.

“I know.”

We made it to the windmill door and he managed to pull it open, laying me down on some hay before locking it shut behind us. I worked to stretch my fingers, but still no movement yet. He set the Book of the Ancients down and flipped it open, cursing under his breath. The glowing was diminishing, but still bright enough to light up our surroundings. “There’s nothing shown on the next page,” he said. “It’s lighting up, but it’s still blank, I don’t understand—”

“Where’s Josh?”

“He’s okay, he’s down below with Dali and Akim. Come on.” He snapped the book shut and scooped me back up, carrying me to the far corner of the windmill. I remembered this space from our wedding night, and our secret rendezvous when we’d had to hide our meetings from Scarlet.

“Look what Dali and Akim had buried away.” He gestured to a straw-covered patch on the floor. Bending down, he felt for a latch and pulled. A large door swung open to reveal an underground crawlspace.

“We found it, mate!” Dali’s voice carried upward from the hole and into the windmill. Gavin carried me down into the space, the book’s golden light further illuminating the area around us, which was already lit with an array of lanterns. Josh lay unconscious on a long wooden plank that had been propped up like a table atop some large stones, his arm cut at the elbow. No wonder none of them had come for me.

“Josh’s been passed out for Dali and Akim’s ritual,” Gavin said, setting me down. “While I was stuck up in the windmill, they’ve been trying to forage through their old stuff to recreate a spell that can give them their power back.”

“They can do that?”

“We’re trying,” Akim answered, shaking a potion and handing it to Dali. “No guarantees how strong we’ll be, but it’s worth a shot.” They busied themselves around a small shelf, studying a stack of papers and reading aloud ingredients and instructions of some sort to one another. The shelf was full of colorful bottles and dusty jars. I didn’t want to know what was in them.

I attempted to force more words out while Gavin cracked open the Book of the Ancients again, flipping through pages like a maniac. I managed to say, “Scarlet is taking over.”

Gavin’s head snapped in my direction, and Dali dropped a potion that Akim caught before it shattered on the floor. “What?” they asked in unison.

“She needed my blood. Said something about Gérard needing me alive in this realm for his spell to work. A spell that will transfer Samira’s power over to her. Said everyone at the frontlines was dead.” That last thought caused more tears to spill over my cheeks; the idea that all our friends were gone was unbearable when we’d come this far.

Dali glanced to Akim, eyes wide. “Hurry, mate.” He didn’t have to ask again. Akim moved faster. Outside the space, I could sense the marching getting closer, the ground’s vibrations growing more persistent. Gavin must have sensed it too; his expression hardened, his gaze moving over my immobile form, then settling somewhere far off, the haunted look in his eyes distressing to witness. He seemed to snap out of it when he realized I was no longer speaking, and then, he too moved faster. The dagger’s paralyzing effect had taken over my ability to say more, and I’d never felt more helpless in my life.

“Come on!” he yelled at the book, flipping to the back again. “Just give me something, damn it!” Dali and Akim began chanting, clasping hands over Josh as they did. A whipping gust of wind zipped around us and then stilled, the lanterns and the Book of the Ancients’ light dying as Dali and Akim’s chants halted. Everything went black then, and the crawlspace became eerily quiet except for the echoes of the army’s marching outside. It shook the ground above, curtains of dirt and dust showering us as the pulsing sent tremors through our bones.

“They’re here,” Gavin whispered in the dark.

The marching ceased and I immediately missed its sound.

The door latch made a slamming noise above us and the door flung open, casting light down into the dark space. The lanterns’ flames flickered until they resumed their full glow. Dali and Akim’s bodies stood tall and still as stone, eyes opened but no life in them.

Akim breathed first—fast and sharp, a breath of life. Then came Dali’s movement, gasping as if he’d been held under water far too long. They both extended their arms, first stretching their fingers and then their necks. Heads rolling backward, their gazes met the light above. Turning, they slowly shifted to face Gavin, and Gavin stepped back to position himself in front of me. He drew his blade, stance cautious.

Dali blinked, stance just as guarded, and an invisible force wrenched Gavin’s dagger away, sending it straight to Dali’s open palm. He gripped it tight, a relieved smile curling on his lips, but he didn’t hang onto it for long. The same force returned the knife to Gavin’s grip, and Dali’s shoulders relaxed. The relief that Dali had restored his power registered on Akim’s face, too, and everyone released the breath they’d been holding. Josh groaned as he awoke and sat up on the improvised table. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, voice groggy. “Gav? Is everything okay?”

Gavin didn’t have time to respond, because the Book of the Ancients blinded us, its light returning full force, and with it, my limbs began to move. A cough escaped my throat and my body was quicker than my mind, hopping up from the ground and stretching, immediately joining Gavin, Dali and Akim as they gathered to study the book’s illustration. Gavin helped me stand, and I worked hard to focus on the page and not the mayhem that waited outside, or the fact that my mobility was restored—which was hard, because my God, being able to walk and move had never felt so good.

Focus was easy when I spotted the words as they appeared in fancy, old-world script on the last page. Their presence was a siren, calling to me:

A firestarter to commence our fate

A drop of loyal blood before it’s too late

A sacrifice of will awaits

The last one standing behind the gates

11

LOYALTY

“That’s your cue, Camille,” Dali said, reaching for more silver daggers from the shelf. He handed them to us so we were now armed with two each, then shoved the Book of the Ancients into my backpack and slipped it over my arms. No one else said a word, didn’t bother to decode the words revealed to us, because we knew.

This was everything we’d been waiting for, and there wasn’t a second more to lose. The army—whatever army Gérard had prepared for us—was just outside the windmill, and no matter how many or few of our friends and Amaranthians remained, they were depending on us.

“It’s time to go, mates,” Akim said, leading the way up the ladder and out of the bunker.

Josh and Dali followed him, and Gavin came to my side. I froze. “Wait.”

Dali and Akim swung around, Dali already halfway up the ladder. “What is it?”

“You have to release Samira from the haven.”

“That’s out of the question.”

“Hey,” I took a step forward, “do you want me to start the fire or not? I need her. The book showed me, you saw it for yourself.”

Gavin spoke up. “I still don’t trust her, Camille. I don’t care what that picture showed you, she could turn on us and—”

“She’s right,” Akim murmured, gaze lowering to the ground, then up to Dali. “I’ll take care of it. The rest of you go, buy us some time until the book tells us what to do next. I won’t let anything happen to her, Gavin.”

Dali, Josh and Akim started up the ladder, and Gavin lassoed me back, tucking us into a dark corner of the bunker, my back to the cool wall. He peered down at me, his eyes a blazing, mocha elixir. Without a word, he angled his head, lips hesitating at mine as he closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell against mine, and I reached up and ran a thumb over his forehead’s crescent scar, searching for his gaze in the dim light, imploring him to trust me, and to know I forgave him for … everything. It all seemed so petty in the grand scheme of things now, and I was certain whatever we were about to face would further clarify our true priorities. Love couldn’t be moved by circumstance, poor choices, or even blatant lies—skewed and damaged, yes, but the heart couldn’t deny what it wanted most once the desire was planted. Whether in bliss or affliction, love owned you all the same.

That shy smile I loved so much formed on his lips, and his eyes fluttered opened. This was the Gavin I missed: vulnerable, raw, and affectionate. It was so … human. A rare sight since he’d been forced to claim the role of our mission’s leader. He responded to my touch, bringing the pad of his thumb to the corner of my shirt hem, inching it up and then smoothing it down onto my hip’s matching crescent scar, mimicking the same soothing motion. We stood there, scar to scar, skin to skin, forehead to forehead, our bodies saying everything we couldn’t. He shifted his mouth and captured my lips, pressing me tight against the wall until he kissed the breath right out of me.

“Get my blood from Scarlet,” I whispered when he pulled back. “It’s in a vial around her neck.”

“I’ll do what I can. You and Akim focus on completing that spell.” His lips found my forehead and then he released me, turning for the ladder after our friends. I followed and ascended into the windmill, where we gathered around the door and opened the heavy wood latch.

The door opened and everything I’d witnessed last time, in this very spot, paled in what lay before us now. In the valley below, the Amaranthian villages were leveled, only the cobblestone streets and scattered, flattened beds of debris remaining.

And then there were the bodies.

“My God,” I choked out, my forearm flying over my mouth to cover my gasp. Through the tears and the distance, I could make out every face, every ghastly expression there in the street, trampled and destroyed beneath the formations of frozen souls that filled every inch of the village. Women clinging to one another, men grasping the stones of the street with bloodied, withered fingers, faces down in the dirt as if they’d been dragging themselves across it. Was there anyone left to save? Had this entire mission been in vain? My mind slammed me with the grief, sending spiraling waves of guilt to my core: We’d brought this upon them.