Everlife. Gena Showalter

the effects of the Dazer will wear off in time, or when someone feeds me manna.

      Truth: I can find Killian through our bond. No one, not even a General, can keep me from him.

      Loyalty: true loyalty stems from love, and love empowers.

      Loving a loved one is easy. Loving an enemy is where the true battle lies. If I can bring myself to act in love with Luciana, perhaps I’ll be unstoppable.

      Even still, rage crackles inside me as I glare at her. Part of me feels like I’m back at Prynne, under the thumb of a cruel dictator. Too many things have gone wrong. I’ve been forgotten by my boyfriend/husband/whatever. I’ve been blackmailed by two Generals, and goaded by a voice in my head.

      At least the voice—my voice—has gone quiet. As I’d peered up at Killian, a bolt of strength hit me. I managed to lock the worst part of myself inside a room in the Grid.

      See? Love empowers.

      “Our turn.” Luciana wraps an arm around my waist and drags me forward, as if I’m a mannequin.

      Crackle, crackle.

      Usually my troubles melt away under the crimson spray of water. Today I experience...nothing. No change whatsoever. Why?

      Ahead, sparkling mist dusts a massive archway carved from a single pearl. A Troikan symbol is etched on top and on each side, making three in total.

      Three is considered the number of perfection. Spirit, soul and body. Father, mother, child. Omniscience, omnipresence, and omnipotence. Loyalty, passion, liberty.

      One can be a fluke, two can be a coincidence, but three is evidence.

      Yesterday, no guards patrolled the wall. Today, different animals prowl from one end to the other. More than I can count. Dogs, cats, wolves, even lions, tigers and bears, oh, my.

      Miracle of miracles, no one is fighting.

      My gaze snags on a dog—pit bull?—and energy arcs between us. I gasp, startled. He must feel the energy, too. He blinks at me, shakes his head, as if disbelieving, then smiles.

      Smiles? But why?

      He must weigh over a hundred pounds. His fur is white and brown, matted and clumped with dirt. He has a serious under-bite that saves him from looking over-the-top ferocious. In fact, it makes him downright adorable. One of his ears is missing—bitten off?

      My chest constricts with compassion. Spirits regenerate. Do dogs?

      In the Everlife, animals can talk. Maybe I’ll ask him. Later.

      “Earlier, Eron decreed every citizen of Troika will be paired with a four-legged guardian,” Luciana says. “You may choose to dismiss your guardian, as the majority of us have. These are the rejects, I believe.”

      My eyes glare my response: What makes you think I’ll ever take your advice?

      Her attitude shreds against my nerves. These “rejects” are living creatures, with thoughts, feelings, hopes and dreams. I will cherish my guardian, thank you very much. If I’m still allowed to have one, after bonding with Killian, that is.

      I hope so. I didn’t have a pet as a child, but I wanted one. A dog, cat, bird, fish. I had no preference, only longed for a companion.

      My gaze returns to the big brown-and-white dog. Maybe he’s my—

      Nope, he’s gone.

      Disappointment sets in. As I force my attention past the animals to the heart of the city, sadness joins the deluge. This. This is the price of war. Armies of MLs invaded our outer borders. At the same time, Myriadian spies—people who had made covenant with Troika while remaining loyal to Myriad—set off bombs inside our cities. We have yet to recover. Our once-bustling metropolis is now a pile of rubble.

      Only a handful of crystal castles remain, once the envy of any Disney princess. Woodland cottages extend from the base of trees. The ones that haven’t collapsed, that is. Though there were once countless chrome and glass buildings, only three remain standing; they look ready to fly to another planet at...any...second. A copper structure rises from the center of the debris, beautiful and tragic all at once.

      I search for Killian and Shamus, but they are nowhere to be found.

      Crackle.

      Lightning spears the crimson sky, and colorful flower petals rain. The waterfall surrounds the entire realm, allowing a garden to grow overhead.

      “Don’t worry,” Luciana says. “Shamus messaged me. Your butcher is alive.”

      Alive, but not well?

      CRACKLE.

      Where is Killian being kept? The realm is divided into seven cities. The Temple of Temples, the Baths of Restoration, the Museum of Wisdom, the House of Secrets, the Garden of Exchange, the Tower of Might, where I train, and the Capitol of New, where I live.

      Though each city covers hundreds of thousands of square miles, Gates and Stairwells allow us to travel at the speed of Light from one to another in seconds. Gates take us from one city to another, while Stairwells take us to different areas within any given city.

      “You and I, we’re going to have a chat.” Luciana shocks me by prying open my mouth and pouring a vial of manna down my throat. “You’re going to be a good girl, aren’t you.”

      The sweetness coats my tongue, and suddenly my muscles unlock, permitting movement.

      Is Killian free, too?

      Let’s hope. “Sorry,” I tell Luciana, “but I think I’ll be a bad girl today.” With no more warning than that, I strike, slamming my fist into her face.

      The dark part of me I thought I’d locked away has escaped.

      The General stumbles back but quickly regains her bearings. As a bead of Lifeblood trickles from the corner of her mouth, her eyes narrow. “Hurting me won’t help your cause, Miss Lockwood.”

      “No, but it will make me feel better. You threatened Killian’s life. You hope to blackmail me into voting for General Orion. You deserve what you get.”

      She runs her tongue over her teeth. “We do what we must for the people we love.”

      “Exactly,” I say, and stalk toward her. So she’s older and has had more training, and I’m still fighting the effects of my bond. So what. I don’t care. Rage drives me.

      Override it!

      Nope. Don’t think I will.

      When I throw my next punch, she’s ready. She blocks and nails me in the eye. My vision blurs as I topple.

      “Now the Butcher’s eye is throbbing, like yours,” she says, a little smug. “What other damage would you like me to do to him?”

      With a snarl, I leap to my feet.

      “I’m surprised you’re so upset about this,” she says. “You told the Butcher you didn’t love him and couldn’t be trusted. Why is that, I wonder. Did you lie to him? Your actions speak louder than your words.”

      I take another swing at her, then another, but she easily dodges both times.

      “You don’t want to take me on, Miss Lockwood. I trained Levi, who trained you. There’s nothing you can do that I can’t do better.”

      Not true. She can’t share Light. I can. Or could. I pause as comprehension slams into me. I’m absorbing Light, but no longer sending the beams to the citizens of Troika.

      Don’t cave to panic. Don’t you dare.

      At least I’m strengthening. And I can find a way to fix this. I can, and I will.

      “Perhaps you buy into the hype that you are somehow special? So precious, so unique.” She sneers at me. “Myriad wanted you because they wrongly believed you were Fused to nine of their fallen Generals. We know better. And guess what?