Infinite

31 VOICES

SAM COLLAPSED NEXT to me, breath heaving.

I studied him, the bloody mess of his hair, the gray pallor of his skin, and the red of injury and infection on his shoulder.

He wasn’t doing well. His body was giving out, and unless we found a medic soon, I couldn’t imagine he would recover. Sam was dying, slowly and painfully, and we both knew it.

“Are you sure?” His expression held a terrible mix of hope and despair. He didn’t want to die. No one did. And if everyone would soon be made immortal, maybe Stef and Armande and Whit and Sarit would be reborn.

But not me.

“I think so,” I whispered. “That’s why he wanted a phoenix. That’s why he has that knife.”

“No one will do it.” Sam’s voice dropped. “No one will consume millions of newsouls to be immortal.”

I didn’t argue, but I didn’t agree. They’d let Janan consume newsouls five thousand years ago. And they’d supported Deborl over the last few months. Some of them had gone out and captured a phoenix. Whit had accused me of losing my faith in people, but was it any wonder when everyone had bowed to Janan five thousand years ago? Some had changed—some knew better now, or loved newsouls and protested because of them—but for people, the memory magic meant they never had to feel the guilt of what they’d done.

“Besides,” Sam said, “the temple is gone.”

“Maybe he figured out another way.”

“Maybe.” Sam closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do it. You know I wouldn’t.”

“He has the skeletons out there, from your very first lifetime. You might not have a choice.”

Sam heaved himself up, swaying on his feet. “Then we have to stop him.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Besides you annoying him to death?” He offered his hand to help me up. I took his hand, but didn’t let him bear my weight. “The cage is hooked into electric lines. Maybe that’s keeping the phoenix from fighting back, or maybe Janan needs that in order to . . . you know.”

I knew. “So we head out the library door, try to blend into the crowd, and creep through it until we find the source of the electricity.”

“That sounds good.” He released my hand and pulled up his hood. “We should hide our faces.”

I reached up and adjusted his hood, smoothing his hair off his face. “Do you know where the electricity originates? Maybe one of those small buildings we came into from the aqueduct?”

Right before Whit died.

“No, I’m not sure. I wish . . .”

He wished Stef were here. I did, too.

“We’ll find it,” I whispered. “It’s one of those buildings.”

“I’m sorry, Ana.” He touched my shoulder, not quite disguising the fact that he needed me to balance. “I’m sorry for our selfishness five thousand years ago. This isn’t what life is supposed to be like. We’re supposed to live, then die, and maybe there’s something else after, like you said. Something good. I’m sorry that we were so afraid, and that we still are.”

I hugged him. “If you hadn’t, then I’d never have known you. I’d never have heard your music. You’ve been the most important person in my life from the first notes of Phoenix Symphony. I can’t regret what let us be together.” Even if our time was short. No matter what happened next. “I love you, Dossam.” Tears blurred my eyes, and everything inside me ached as I pulled away. I wanted to tell him a hundred times. A million. I needed him to feel my love in his soul.

If only there were time.

As we headed to the door, I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if we stayed here. If we waited long enough, would Sam be miraculously healed when Janan finished outside? Would I be allowed to stay with him, at least until the ash had dispersed and I was sent back into exile?

We’d never know.

I pushed open the library door, but instead of slipping invisibly into the crowd, we came face-to-face with Janan.

He was only a little taller than me, but he wasn’t small. He was compact. Thick arms crossed his chest, all bulging muscle in spite of millennia without moving, and his eyes were deep-set and piercing. The wild hair might have made him look comical if the rest of him didn’t scream deadly power.

I spun and started to run, but Janan reached out and snatched my arm. His fingertips dug into my skin, even through the sleeve of my coat. I tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened, and he grabbed Sam’s arm, too. The hurt one. Sam cried out as his arm wrenched out of place, but Janan’s expression remained hard and angry.

He shoved us at a pair of red-clothed guards. “Bring them.”

As hands closed over me, I struggled to free myself, but there were too many. They were too strong, in spite of the fact that they’d been through eruptions and explosions, too. Some were bloodied and gasping. That didn’t stop them.

Sam fought back, but his arm was weak and he’d lost too much blood. Someone punched him in the gut. He doubled over and hung limp in their grasps.

I kept struggling, hitting and kicking wherever I could. If I could get away, I could figure out how to free the phoenix. But when I looked out beyond my immediate attackers, all I could see were people. Thousands of them. I’d never make it through.

I slumped. My whole body ached, and my heart twisted with fear and grief as I let them drag me to the phoenix cage. Skeletons waited around the cage, same as they’d sat in the red chamber of the temple, though now they were partially draped over one another, to make room for all the bodies pressing around, everyone looking eager and anxious and afraid.

Silver chains shimmered in the glow of the rocks. The skulls were eyeless but watching. Almost a million of them. One for every person here, and for people who’d left with newsouls. None for those who’d died in Templedark, though; those were still piled in the crater left behind after the temple exploded.

Sam and I were slammed on the ground near the cage, just inside the circles of skeletons. Janan stepped inside with us, watching impassively as Sam groaned and clutched his shoulder, his face contorted with pain.

“Sam!” I tried to crawl toward him but someone hit me, knocking me back down. My elbows slammed on the cobblestones, then my head. My thoughts swam like liquid.

“So, the mistake still lives.” Janan’s voice was harsh and deep, like a canyon speaking. “You intrigue me. For millennia, I’ve been alone but for my Hallow, and then you arrived. You flew past me. My new Hallow explained your father’s poison and how you came to be. And that you’ve tried to make a place for yourself in spite of everything.”

I glared up at him.

“I would be a poor ruler if I didn’t want my people to be happy and satisfied with their lives. I find that people who are content are less likely to cause trouble, as you have been doing.”

“How can I be content when you’re eating newsouls? When you’re manipulating the memories of your people? And lying to them?” My words came ragged and worn, though they’d felt full of strength and hate when I opened my mouth.

Janan nodded. “Yes. I understand your anger. Which is why I’m going to make you an offer.”

“You have nothing I want,” I growled.

Janan stepped around me, toward the cage.

“What are you doing?” My voice didn’t carry. He acted like he didn’t hear me. I checked around me. The people who’d dragged Sam and me here were gone, back with the crowd beyond the skeletons. I wondered what they thought of the two of us being up here. Like we were favored. It was so we wouldn’t try to escape, though.

Slowly, while everyone was distracted by Janan moving alongside the cage, I slid off my backpack. Was there anything useful inside? I tried to remember what we’d packed this morning. Medical supplies. Sticky gloves and boot covers; those were still on the roof. Flute; it would be a miracle if that wasn’t broken. A small tool kit Stef had scrounged for me. The knife Sam had given me a year ago. I wanted to scoot close to him and see if he was okay, but I needed to stop Janan. Sam would understand. He’d tell me to stop Janan first.

Janan drew his knife and slipped it into the cage and the cloth-covered bundle on the floor. My heart thundered as I crept closer. Surely he wouldn’t kill it yet.

The first rope snapped under the sharp blade. Then another. Was there anything I could do? I felt paralyzed, my thoughts thick and useless.

One by one, the ropes sliced apart and the heavy black cloth fell away.

It seemed a small sun appeared before me as the phoenix rose up and screamed, powerful and polyphonic. An orange glow turned white, and tears poured down my cheeks as immense wings lifted above its head, all glory and flame and black ash raining.

The phoenix was twice my size, with glittering plumage more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen. It had a hooked beak and great talons like a raptor, but I remembered the story from the temple books: the phoenixes hadn’t killed Janan and his warriors, because they didn’t want to end their cycle of rebirth.

Everyone gasped, and the crowd went perfectly silent as the phoenix gazed around at its captors.

I’d expected its eyes to be made of light, like every other piece of it, but when the large round eyes landed on me, they were black like moonless night. Like night if the stars had all gone out. They were deep and ancient and filled with sorrow.

Quiet rushed over the world. Even the blackness of ash outside the city seemed muted. Janan stepped onto a raised platform to address everyone.

“Five millennia ago, I searched for the key to immortality. When I was imprisoned for my knowledge, you came to free me, but I had another plan, one that would ensure we could all live eternally. Now I have returned to fulfill that promise.” Janan raised his voice. “Though I tried to protect you, I could not stop what you call Templedark or the slaughter that came that night. We’ve lost so many of our own. Nevertheless, we must begin to rebuild. As I’ve said, I want my people to be content.”

Janan turned his gaze on Sam, who pushed himself back into a sitting position. His shoulder was bleeding again, and his arm hung limp at his side. His skin was pale and shone with sweat as he edged closer to me, though his movements were slow and clumsy. He couldn’t do this much longer.

“Some,” Janan went on, “will never be content, knowing what they have lost. While I can do nothing for those fallen during Templedark, to show you I am not truly without heart, I will add one to our ranks.”

Sam looked at me. I looked at Janan. A low murmur rippled through the crowd.

“You’d make me immortal?” I asked. “Like everyone else?”

Janan nodded. “You and Dossam care for each other. You’ve fought hard to be part of this community.” He swept his arms over the crowd. “You were exiled, but that doesn’t have to be true any longer. You can live forever with your friends. With Dossam.”

My heart stumbled on itself. Life with Sam. With music.

“Ana.” Sam’s hoarse whisper drew me closer to him. Our eyes met, and he didn’t have to say what he was thinking. He’d already told me a thousand times.

He would choose me.

No matter the price, no matter the consequences. Sam would choose me.

My heart broke.

“You understand why I can’t, right?” I touched his face. My eyes ached with fresh tears. The salt stung cuts on my face.

He nodded. “I understand.”

I brushed my lips against his, then climbed to my feet to face Janan. Here was a chance to make the others see.

If there were any who’d been too afraid to speak up.

If there were any who’d wanted to make a choice, but hadn’t known how.

If there were any who wouldn’t stand for the slaughter of a phoenix and newsouls.

“What is the price of immortality?” My voice sounded wisp-thin, only a thread of a song, but I urged strength into it.

Janan spoke easily. “One life never lived. One tiny spark that will never know.” He motioned at the phoenix, which gazed over the assembly with unreadable eyes. “And this.”

Couldn’t everyone see how wrong this was? Whit and Orrin had insisted there were good people we were leaving behind. I wanted that to be true. I wanted them to stand up for what was right and prove all my fears wrong.

But no one moved.

What about the people we’d freed from prison? When I glanced over the crowd, I spotted familiar faces, but when our eyes met, they looked away.

“Five thousand years ago, you told everyone the phoenixes had imprisoned you because of the knowledge you gained, but that isn’t true. They imprisoned you because you captured a phoenix and tortured it.”

Everyone was silent. Staring.

“The phoenixes wouldn’t kill you for what you’d done, but they did give you eternity in a tower. Instead of repenting, you began exchanging souls. You reincarnated people because you couldn’t bear to be without them, and then you made them forget.”

Janan cocked his head and remained silent.

The whole city was silent, save ragged breathing and groans of dragons dying and the muted roar of the pyroclastic flow surging past.

No one was listening.

“It’s true.” Sam forced himself to sit a little straighter. “You stole our memories.”

Whispers sizzled through the crowd.

“You made them forget because you knew the guilt of trading a newsoul every lifetime would crush them,” I said. “You didn’t want them to know what you’d done.”

“You didn’t just trade their lives for ours,” Sam said. “You took newsouls, and you ate them. You consumed their souls for power. Our reincarnation was bought with that stolen life.”

“No. No.” The voices came from the crowd. Some of the people I’d freed from prison moved about the others, muttering and pointing.

“What I did before was wasteful,” Janan said. “Now I know a better way. One soul for infinite life. That’s all it will take now. No more death and rebirth. No more reincarnation. Just life.” Janan motioned to the phoenix. “And I have this.”

“I would die for other people,” I said, “and other people have died for me. We do it because of love. But I won’t accept an unwilling sacrifice. Not the phoenix, and not a soul that’s never lived.”

Janan nodded. “Very well. I was afraid you might feel that way, but I’d hoped otherwise. We will continue without you.”

The crowd hushed. Everyone watched me; I could feel their stares. Only, I had no idea what to do next. I’d hoped to inspire them, make them see the truth, but no one was moving.

No one was willing to speak up.

“Wait,” someone called. Someone from the prison? “You made us forget?”

“What was that about newsouls?” another asked, and voices poured from the crowd, talking to one another, shouting questions at Janan.

“They’re just newsouls. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“We thought newsouls would replace us, but we’ve been replacing them this whole time.”

“We’ve had more than our share of lifetimes, and the cost . . .”

“I’m afraid to die.”

“The girl is right. We can’t do this.”

The questions and demands for more information intensified. I couldn’t believe it. They cared? Not everyone, but some were asking questions and pressing through the ring of skeletons, and Janan looked stunned, like how could they not accept the trade?

He didn’t understand the value of one life. He underestimated the impact one soul could have.

My friends had been right after all. There were good people here.

At my feet, Sam grasped my ankle. “Help me up.”

I bent and wrapped my arm around him, taking as much of his weight as I could bear while he found his feet. He swayed, but steadied himself and added his voice to those standing up to Janan.

“I won’t be part of this!” someone shouted.

Hope flowered inside me as people closed in on the cage, on Janan standing there with his knife. The phoenix watched people turn on their leader.

“Very well,” said Janan. “If you will not all accept my gift, I will give it to no one.”

“No!” Toward the back, someone threw a punch. A fight broke out, and screams again rang through the night. Blue targeting lights flared and people yelled, calling to Janan for help, but he just stood on the dais and watched chaos erupt through the industrial quarter. What was left of the city would destroy itself unless someone stopped it.

Stopped Janan for good.

But what could stop something like Janan? He was human, but immortal now. He had nothing to fear.

I’d once thought dragons had nothing to fear, but they were terrified of Sam and what he held. If the phoenix song was life and death, if it could destroy something as formidable as dragons, maybe it could affect Janan as well.

As the crowd pressed closer, louder, and Janan’s smile grew wider, I bent for my backpack and removed my knife and flute case.

“What are you doing?” Sam gripped my shoulder for balance.

“There’s a phoenix. I’m going to make it use its song. Unless you think you can do it on command?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes grew wide. “I don’t know how.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I understand.” He was broken. Dying. All his hope and confidence stripped away. I held his hand as he staggered with me to the cage while Janan was distracted by the fighting.

The phoenix was quiet now, watching everything, though I couldn’t guess its thoughts. I left Sam leaning against the bars while I searched for a latch. But if there were a way to open the cage, it was near Janan.

“Hey, phoenix.”

The black eyes turned on me.

“I want to free you.”

Its head tilted.

“But I need you to use the phoenix song. The one dragons are afraid of. Sam knows it, but he doesn’t know it. And his arm is hurt too badly to play my flute. I need your help.”

“You just go right up to anything and talk to it, don’t you?” Sam closed his eyes and smiled. “I love that about you.”

“Everything else has talked back so far.” I turned to the phoenix again. “I need your help. Please.”

The phoenix shook its head.

No?

Because it wouldn’t take a life and risk its own cycle of rebirth?

Then what was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to stop Janan? How was I supposed to ensure newsouls had a life?

I’d already failed the sylph.

Hadn’t I?

On the dais, Janan lifted his knife into the air. A man went flying backward, like the dragons had earlier. Janan was just adding to the chaos.

If he’d consumed the sylph when they entered the temple, were they already gone? Or slowly digesting as the newsouls had?

Fine. I’d try it myself. I lifted my flute and started to play.

The flute whispered a song, high and thin with my nervousness. But Sam looked up. The phoenix softened. And Janan spun, looking for the source of silver sound and defiance.

I began with four notes, hesitant but hopeful as the flute’s voice swelled into a familiar waltz. I played waves on a lakeshore and wind through trees. Lightning strikes, thunder, and pattering rain.

It seemed impossible one flute could do all that, but I wasn’t alone. Sam hummed with me, heat and anger and honey sweetness as I played the music of my heart. His heart.

He was doing it, the magic. We were doing it.

When I looked at him, he was smiling.

More voices joined. Men and women close by caught the note Sam hummed, and sang with him. They formed a wall around Sam and me, the cage. And when Janan raised his knife to flick them away, nothing happened.

Another rush of voices raised up, strange and unearthly and coming from somewhere I couldn’t see, but they sang wild harmony and countermelody.

Even the stomp of boots and the clash of weapons joined our song, weaving into the music with the thunderous bass of surging pyroclasts.

I poured my soul into this, the threads of voices weaving into sound that seemed to transcend music. This was something altogether new, strange and lovely and magical.

Music thickened over the night as though this was the only thing in the world, the only thing that mattered. Janan dropped to all fours and shuddered as smoke peeled from his body, black and undulating.

Sylph.

The fighting stopped as more people began to notice what was happening, began to add their voices to the song. Lightning snapped through and Janan screamed as blackness overwhelmed him. All my sylph freed themselves and left Janan lying on the dais, unmoving. Scarcely breathing.

As the voices rose higher and sylph added their own melodies to the waltz, I lowered my flute and approached Janan.

My knife, a slim rosewood handle and tiny steel blade, found its way into my hand. I climbed the dais and crouched next to Janan, looking up only a moment to find most of Heart watching to see what I would do. A few people held back others, but most—most just sang and watched, because somehow this was my choice.

Oldsouls or newsouls. Beginnings or never-endings.

Sylph flowed around me, Cris next to me, and waiting by the phoenix was Sam. He looked tired, barely alive, but when I closed my eyes, I remembered the way he’d held me after I hadn’t killed Deborl. He’d said he was glad I hadn’t.

I looked back at Janan. Could I show compassion for a man who’d caused millennia of pain for newsouls, who’d captured a phoenix twice now, ready to sacrifice it for his selfish desire to live forever?

Who was I to decide who lived and died? That was a decision Janan had been making for others for thousands of years. I wanted to be nothing like him. I wanted to value life, all life, regardless of how despicable some of it could be.

And who knew—maybe there was something else after death. Just because it was unknown didn’t make it bad. It could be good.

I sheathed my own knife and took Janan’s bloodstained knife from his hand.

Light and power flooded into me, dizzying and far too much for one soul to hold. I fell back, and the last thing I heard was the phoenix singing four notes.