“No,” she says. “No. I won’t—”
“Verene,” Theo says. “You already did.”
She’s trying to get away. But he’s already shoving the eye into her mouth.
All I can do is watch, strangely mesmerized, as Verene gags. Theo covers her mouth and forces her to chew. And chew. And chew. It takes so long, and she fights it the whole time, but he doesn’t let up. When it’s finally done, she goes limp.
She’s crying, and it’s a small, broken noise. He takes his hand off her mouth and pushes her hair away from her face, gently. He’s watching her like he’s waiting for something to happen.
So I watch her, too. I watch her shuddering breaths. I watch her seeping wounds. I watch the omens crawl down her face and onto her neck.
And then, the omens stop in their tracks. They disappear. Every last one.
Her wounds stop bleeding.
Verene goes still. Then, all at once, she wrenches herself away from her brother. She scrambles back on her hands and knees. She’s moving like she doesn’t feel any pain at all, but her face is gray and terrified.
She blinks once, twice, and something happens behind her eyes. Even from here, I can see it. In an instant, they’re darker.
Colder.
“No,” she says, her voice hushed. “No—”
I know what I’m looking at. I’ve seen it before.
Magic. Blood magic. The most powerful magic a person can have.
I have to get out of this city. I have to get back to my home.
I stand up and scoop up my knife off the cobblestone. Somehow, I get Ale on his feet. His arm is around my shoulder, leaning on me heavily, as we stumble into the nearest street. I look around wildly for an entrance to the catacombs. I see dark manors and terrified faces peeking out of the windows. I see bubbling fountains and beautiful white rose gardens. I can’t remember if I’ve been on this particular street before, and I want to scream. I don’t have time to be lost. Ale doesn’t have time to be lost.
At last, I spot a familiar door in an alley. I drag Ale onto the first step. Instantly, a few drops of his blood fall. A moment later, the vide is there, swallowing it up.
I pull the blood-soaked jacket off Ale’s face. I wring it out onto the vide, and its shadowy form gets darker. The air gets colder as the splatters of blood disappear.
“Ale,” I say. “Tell it to take us back to Occhia. It will listen to you.”
Ale sways, and all at once, he’s collapsing down the steps. I chase him. He’s landed in a crumpled pile on the catacomb floor, barely conscious. His one remaining eye is fluttering, but really, all I can see is the gaping, bloody hole in his face.
“Ale.” I grab his shoulder and shake him. “Tell the vide to take us home. Now.”
“It hurts,” he whispers.
“I know,” I say.
“Why?” he says. “Why did she do this to me?”
His voice is so small and helpless, and for a second, I completely lose my nerve. For a second, I’m convinced that I can’t do this. We can’t do this. We’re never going to be able to make it back to Occhia, and we’re going to die right here on the floor of the catacombs.
But then I shake myself. Ale needs me. He needs his best friend—the one who can and will do anything for him.
I press my knife against my unblemished hand. I hold my breath and slice, quick and decisive. I squeeze it out over the floor again. And again. And again.
“Listen up, you gluttonous thing,” I say to the shadow underneath me. “We’ve given you more than enough, so you’d better—”
The floor opens up beneath us.
And everything goes black.
I’m flying through the air, and I have no idea which way is up until I hit the ground, hard.
I struggle to suck in a breath, suddenly desperate for air. Traveling inside the vide was quick but deeply disorienting. I felt like I was dragged into a black room and tossed onto its floor like a doll. All I wanted to do was get up and look around, but I couldn’t. My body wasn’t listening to me.
I wonder if being dead feels anything like that.
There’s a heavy thump beside me, and I turn to see Ale, lying with his back to me. I sit up and reach for him. I shake his shoulders, and he doesn’t move.
“Ale?” I say. It comes out as more of a whimper.
He’s passed out. He’s lost so much blood, and it’s still seeping out of his face.
This is my fault. I was supposed to be with him the whole time. I was supposed to protect him.
Then I realize that the shadow is still hovering next to him. It’s quietly sucking up the blood pooling below his empty eye socket.
“Stop it,” I hiss at the vide, suddenly furious.
We’re lying at the foot of a staircase that looks just like the one we left. Up above, a door is cracked open to reveal the red light of the veil.
If we’re not really back in Occhia, I don’t know what I’m going to do.
I start dragging Ale up the stairs. The vide follows us.
“Stop!” I say, aware that it’s probably not going to do any good. “Leave him alone.”
I reach the door and shove it open.
We’re back in our city. The manors all around me are dark and quiet underneath the glowing red veil of midday. The narrow cobblestone streets are empty. Everything looks so dry and deserted and… dead.
Maybe it is. Maybe they’re gone, and this was all for nothing. Maybe I’m going to have to sit here alone and watch Ale bleed to death.
No. If there’s anyone still here, they’re going to find us, and they’re going to help him right now.
“Hello!” I yell.
It echoes. For a moment, everything is still.
Then I hear footsteps. I spot a flash of movement at the end of the street, and three guards in red coats are barreling toward me. They grab me, knocking the knife out of my hands. In an instant, there are chains around my wrists. One of them notices Ale and moves for him.
“I stabbed him,” I say. “He wasn’t loyal to me. Perhaps you can still save him. Perhaps not.”
The guards mutter to one another. One of them wrestles Ale into his arms. He runs off down the street, much faster than I’d ever have been able to, and my head spins in relief.
One of the guards grabs the end of my chain and pulls me forward.
“How long has it been?” I say.
“Three days,” he says.
“Is the water gone?” I say. “Has anyone died?”
“Oh, people have died, all right,” he says. “Some because of the water. Some because of the riots. I suppose you’re happy about that.”
I don’t know why I’d be happy about that. It’s not like I just woke up one day and decided it would be hilarious to kill the watercrea.
“I know how to get us water,” I say.
“Sure you do,” he says.
Fine. He can put me in a jail cell if it makes him feel better. He’ll realize the error of his ways soon enough.
After the dazzling white streets of Iris, my city feels so dark. I immediately see what the guard meant when he said there were riots. The black manors have broken windows and boarded-up doors. The cobblestone is littered with debris and abandoned clothes. People died right here, in the street, fighting over the few drops we had left.