Tella
When she opened it, several red rose petals fell onto her palm, along with a
key. Delicate green glass. Similar to the one she’d been given for her room,
only this key had a number five etched into it, and attached to it was a tiny
black ribbon, which held a wide slip of paper with one name: Donatella
Dragna
“I didn’t know the word vulture was a curse,” said Scarlett.
“The way you used it made it sound like one.”
“You’d curse too if you had a sister who was kidnapped as part of this
game.”
“There you go again thinking too highly of me, Crimson. If I had a sister
who was kidnapped for this game, I’d use it to my advantage. Stop feeling
sorry for yourself and come on.” Julian pushed off the wall and started toward
Tella’s ransacked room.
Scarlett double-checked the note attached to her key. The only words on
the note were her sister’s name, but below that was a wide swath of empty
space. Crossing over to the closest stained-glass candled lamp, Scarlett held
the page up as Tella had done with the tickets from Legend. Sure enough, new
lines of elegant script appeared.
After a moment the poem disappeared, and a new set of words took its
place.
No...
No cracks. Whole. I loosed a shuddering breath. We had done it. We had done—I turned.It took me a moment to grasp it. What I saw. Rhys was sprawled on the rocky ground, wings draped behind him.He looked like he was sleeping. But as I breathed in—It wasn’t there. That thing that rose and fell with each breath. That echoed each heartbeat.The mating bond. It wasn’t there. It was gone. Because his own chest … it was not moving. And Rhys was dead.
Stay, stay, stay I clung to those scraps and remnants, clawing at the void that lurked beyond. Stay. I looked up at Tarquin, lip curling back from my teeth. Looked at Helion. And Thesan. And Beronand Kallias, Viviane weeping at his side. And I snarled, “Bring him back.” Blank faces.I screamed at them,
“BRING HIM BACK.” “You did it for me,” I said, breathing hard. “Now do it for him.”“You were a human,” Helion said carefully. “It is not the same—”“I don’t care. Do it.” When they didn’t move, I rallied the dregs of my power, readying to rip in to their minds and force them, not caring what rules or laws it broke. I wouldn’t care, only if—Tarquin stepped forward. He slowly extended his hand toward me. “For what he gave,” Tarquin said quietly. “Today and for many years before.”And as that seed of light appeared in his palm … I began crying again. Watched it drop onto Rhys’s bare throat and vanish into the skin beneath, an echo of light flaring once. Helion stepped forward. That kernel of light in his hand flickered as it fell onto Rhys’s skin. Then Kallias. And Thesan. Until only Beron stood there. Mor drew her sword and laid it on his throat. He jerked, having not even seen her move. “I do not mind making one more kill today,” she said. Beron gave her a withering glare, but shoved off the sword and strode forward. He practically
Reklam
I love it
“How,” I asked again.
“He wouldn’t wait for us,” Mor said flatly. “He kept charging—trying to reform the line. One of their commanders engaged him. He wouldn’t turn away.
By the time Az got there, he was down.”
Azriel’s face was stone-cold, even as his hazel eyes fixed unrelentingly upon
that knitting wound.
Mor said again, “Where did you go?”
“If you’re about to fight,” the healer said sharply, “take it outside. My patient
doesn’t need to hear this.”
None of us moved.
Rhys brushed a hand down my arm. “You are, as always, free to go wherever
and whenever you wish. But what I think Mor is saying is … try to leave a note
the next time.”
The words were casual, but that was panic in his eyes. Not—not the
controlling fear Tamlin had once succumbed to, but … genuine terror of not
knowing where I was, if I needed help. Just as I would want to know where he
was, if he needed help, if he vanished when our enemies surrounded us. “I’m
sorry,” I said. To him, to the others.
Mor didn’t so much as look at me.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Rhys replied, hand sliding to cup my
cheek. “You decided to take things into your own hands, and got us valuable
information in the process. But …” His thumb stroked over my cheekbone. “We
have been lucky,” he breathed. “Keeping a step ahead—keeping out of Hybern’ claws. Even if today … today wasn’t so fortunate on the battlefield. But the
cynic in me wonders if our luck is about to expire. And I would rather it not end
with you.”
They all had to think me young and reckless.
Ghostly Kisses-Empty NoteEdebiyat
Gördüklerimi hiç görmedin sen.
Dibini boyladığım çukur, cehennem kadar derindi
The Suicide’s RoomŞiir
I’ll bet you think the room was empty.
Wrong. There were three chairs with sturdy backs.
A lamp, good for fighting the dark.
A desk, and on the desk a wallet, some newspapers.
A carefree Buddha and a worried Christ.
Seven lucky elephants, a notebook in a drawer.
You think our addresses weren’t in it?
No books, no pictures, no records, you guess?
Wrong. A comforting trumpet poised in black hands.
Saskia and her cordial little flower.
Joy the spark of gods.
Odysseus stretched on the shelf in life-giving sleep
after the labors of Book Five.
The moralists
with the golden syllables of their names
inscribed on finely tanned spines.
Next to them, the politicians braced their backs.
No way out? But what about the door?
No prospects? The window had other views.
His glasses
lay on the windowsill.
And one fly buzzed—that is, was still alive.
“Beds empty! No note! Car gone... could have crashed... out of my mind with worry... did you care? ... never, as long as I’ve lived... you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy...”
