Page 150 of Godslayer
They fall like dying stars, their light stolen before it can burn.
I take them apart, unmake them, return them to dust.
And all the while, I am walking. Hunting. Searching for spark.
Because when this is over, once again, she will be dying.
And I will need more.
33 - CLARA
Everywhere, there are fluttering blue butterflies. The spark radiates off them like heat.
“So… what do you think?” The haughty Little Sister—the arrogant one who rolled her eyes at me while she was having her first tour of the Maiden Tower—spins, twirling the skirt of her short dress.
“What is this fabric?” I ask. Reaching for the paper-thin silk that makes up her bell sleeves. It’s not any silk I’ve ever worn. It’s sheer, and shimmery, and soft.
“Don’t you just adore it? It’s calledorganza.” Then Jasina laughs. One of those ‘ha-ha’ laughs that sometimes bursts out of people when they’re in the middle of a moment of pure joy. “Can you believe this weave? I need to find a supplier—I’ll make us dozens of dresses! But what about the length? Do you like the style?”
“I love it! Absolutely. Shows off your legs.”
I blink.What?
Then, Tyse is whispering in my ear. “You’re all right. You’re OK, Clara. You’re fine.”
This is when I realize I’ve been dreaming, my whole body is covered in sweat, and I’m no longer strapped to a wall. “How…” But I feel too weak to think. My throat too dry to speak.
“Just be still now. Your reserves are buildin’ back up. You’ll feel better in a few hours.”
And now I feel the warmth. His body pressed into mine. His arms around me. He’s so hot, he feels like a furnace. But I’m so cold, I push myself into him, trying to get warm.
“You’re OK,” he says again. “You’re all right. You’re gonna be fine.”
I’m sleepy and his words echo in my head as I go back into the dream to see the Little Sister with the blue butterflies swarming around her like a cyclone. Jasina Bell. Then I’m being pulled back in time, to the afternoon when I first saw her inside the Maiden Tower when she was getting her tour.
It was the last day of my innocence.
The last day before the bells started ringing again.
The day when everything started to unravel like a loose thread of silk…
The next timeI wake up, the world is shaking. Booming, thunderous vibrations echo through the walls. I know this sound, and it terrifies me. I try to take a deep breath, hoping to steel myself, but it comes out as a gasp and ends like a whimper.
“It’s OK,” Tyse says. “It’s just the horde. Somethin’s goin’ on down there.”
I open my eyes. Tyse is wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist. He’s wet, like he just got out of the shower. And he’s sitting in a chair across the room.
Theroom?
“Where are we?” My words come out throaty. Croaky.
“Our new quarters, darlin’—courtesy of Epsilon.” When he says these words, he…he lights up. Patterns of lights, specks, and dots cover the length of his arms, his torso, his neck. Even his face.
Lights inside his skin. Not on him—in him.
I try and sit up, but the headache is so acute, I nearly double over and vomit. Only my extensive years of Spark Maiden training stop the act before it happens. I close my eyes again, propping myself up on one elbow, hoping the wave of nausea passes.
The lights go out. “Sorry,” Tyse says. “I forgot about the headaches.”
