Infinite

7 COMPASSION

I SLAMMED THE door, locked the bolt, and spun around to find everyone gathered around ten black vehicles. “It’s Deborl.” My voice shook, but the words rang throughout the brightly lit guard station.

Stef swore and turned to the crowd. “Get ready to open the gate, but don’t leave until we know it’s safe. He could have shooters on the roof.”

People rushed into action as something thumped on the city-side door. Shouts rang throughout the guard station, orders and cries for help. The newsouls wailed at the sudden commotion.

Stef shoved a laser pistol into my hand. “Shoot anyone who comes through that door.” She grabbed Sam’s elbow and dragged him deeper into the guard station.

I clutched the pistol in both hands, staring at the rattling door for a few agonizing minutes before I realized there was no one there to shoot. Not unless I wanted to burn holes in the wood. Hands trembling, I shoved the pistol into my coat pocket and searched for something to block the door with. A desk or chair. Anything.

But guard stations were sparsely furnished. There was an armory—no doubt raided already by Whit and Orrin—and a stable for horses. Nothing useful there, but—

“We can block the door with bales of hay.” There were at least five other people by this door. We didn’t all need to be here. I turned to Aril, who stood near me. “Will you help?”

She looked up. “Bales of hay? Good idea.” She grabbed Thleen—a wildlife expert I’d only recently met—and we ran through a short, dark passageway and into the stables.

“Careful,” Thleen said. “There’s another entrance on the far side, where they let horses out to exercise.”

We slowed to a walk, listening as we came to a long row of stables. The din of our friends was behind us now. Ahead, there were only the sounds of horses snorting, shuffling hay around their stalls, and lapping water. The stables smelled warm and earthy, and a little like sweat.

“Bales are kept up there.” Aril motioned to a rickety staircase leading to a loft. Bits of hay floated down, but there was no wind, so why—

“Watch out!” I grabbed her arm and dragged her back into the passageway just as blue light flashed and a hole sizzled in the wall to my left.

Strangers appeared in the hayloft above the hall, lasers aimed. A handful leapt down to the floor level and shot toward the guard station.

My companions fired their weapons. Between shots, Thleen shoved me into a shallow alcove. My elbow slammed against the wooden wall, aching, and I looked up just in time to see her double over and clutch her leg.

But we weren’t alone. Our people rushed through the passageway, firing pistols. Horses screamed, and the odor of burning wood filled the area. Both sides collided, all wild and chaotic.

“Ana!” Sam’s voice rang above the cacophony. “Ana!”

I squeezed through the fighting, searching for Sam, but when I found my way back into the guard station, another group of Deborl’s people surged into the main chamber. Blue targeting lights lit the room. Glass exploded in one of the vehicles, and screams crescendoed.

I shouldn’t have left my post. Stef had put me by the door, and I’d left.

“There you are.” Deborl’s voice pierced the noise as he appeared in front of me, his laser aimed at my forehead. He was small, only my size and barely a year past his first quindec. He still had spindly arms and legs he hadn’t quite grown into, and though he might have been attractive in an awkward way, his glare and cruel smile destroyed that. “Nosoul.”

If I raised my pistol, he’d shoot. He’d shoot anyway. Words tumbled out of me. “We’re just trying to get out of Heart, okay? You win. You can have the city. Newsouls are leaving.”

He took two long strides and shoved me against the wall, his free hand around my throat. The edges of my vision fogged as I struggled to breathe, and my pistol slipped from my fingers. “I will kill every one of you,” he said. His pistol pressed against my shoulder. “You’re no threat to Janan. You aren’t. But you’re an annoyance to me.”

First Meuric, now Deborl. Janan’s Hallows needed so badly to convince themselves of my unimportance.

I jerked my knee up, between his legs. He stumbled backward, and the blue light from the pistol flashed. I gasped for breath as I dropped, fingers grasping for my pistol.

Beyond Deborl, the fighting had shifted, mostly in the passageway now, with my friends bottlenecked. They had us outnumbered, but we seemed to be winning anyway.

I gripped my pistol and stood just as Deborl righted himself, too. His face was still contorted with pain, and in his haste to stagger away from me, he’d dropped his pistol.

Pulse aching in my throat, I leveled my pistol at him and ordered myself to shoot.

Someone screamed near the exit.

Sam called my name again.

Deborl’s people began to back off, though I couldn’t understand why.

“Shoot,” I whispered to myself. My hands shook on the pistol, and as Deborl recovered, he gave a long, slow smile, like he knew I was hoping someone else would come and save me from this choice. Stef shot people. Sam had, too. Why couldn’t they come do this?

The blue targeting light flared from my pistol. I had only to press the button the rest of the way down.

Deborl reached for his weapon. I shifted my aim and shot his pistol before he could grab it. It spun for a moment, then burst into flames. Scraps of metal flew up, into Deborl’s hand. He screamed and clutched his bleeding, heat-singed hand to himself. Cursing, he called a retreat and his people began running for the exit.

Slowly, I advanced on him, holding my pistol steady for the first time. “Give me the temple key.”

He shifted away from the burning wreckage of his pistol. “I don’t have it.”

That was a lie. His coat had fallen open, revealing a slice of silver inside one of the interior pockets: the key. Maybe I couldn’t make myself shoot him, but I could kick him.

I rammed the toe of my boot into his ribs, and when he fell over, gasping, I snatched the key. With his good hand, though, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the floor. I tightened my grip on the key, but my pistol spun away.

Deborl jammed his thumb against my arm. Fire raced through me, and I screamed.

I struggled to pry myself away, and he grabbed the key back. We fought, shouting curses at each other, and just as I was ready to give up, a boot collided with Deborl’s head.

Sam hauled the former Councilor to his feet and retrieved the key. Fighting tears, I pressed my hand to my arm. I couldn’t remember getting hurt, but something must have happened.

Before Sam could shift the key and pistol around in his good hand, Deborl squirmed away and followed his friends out the door, never giving Sam a chance to shoot.

Sam dropped to the floor next to me, good hand tight over the temple key. “Ana.” He wrapped his arms around me as Deborl and his friends escaped, and our people filtered back into the guard station.

“Anid and Ariana?”

“They’re safe.” Sam’s words were warm on my neck.

Relief poured through me, and I clung to Sam. “I’m sorry,” I rasped. “I couldn’t do it.”

Two of ten vehicles had been damaged in the fight, so Orrin and Whit reorganized groups and supplies and removed the solar panels from the roofs to store inside other vehicles as backups. They’d need the extra electricity when they reached their destination.

Since Rin was the only medic in the group, she made quick evaluations of injuries, then had the most urgent cases helped into one vehicle, where she could treat them en route. Miraculously, no one had been killed, though someone had a broken leg, while another had been shot in the throat; the laser had cauterized the wound.

I climbed into one of the vehicles after Sam. I’d ridden in one just once that I could remember, and that had been when Meuric, Li, and a pair of guards came to arrest Sam after the rededication ceremony. That time, I’d been too angry to enjoy the luxury. This time, too much hurt, both my heart and my arm.

Stef drove. Orrin, Geral, and Ariana crowded in, too, and as the others pulled out of the guard station, we crept after them into the icy night.

Ariana cried, and Orrin and Geral could do nothing to console her. The rest of us cringed miserably as the wailing grew worse, rising every time the vehicle hit a bump—which was frequently. I slumped in my seat and sent a message to Sarit, letting her know that we’d made it out of Heart.

I wished we’d gotten a chance to say good-bye, but there’d been no time in all the last-minute rush to escape. I missed her already. Maybe we’d get to see each other again before Soul Night.

Sam helped me out of my coat, mindful of my injured arm, and applied burn cream. We had to put the bandage on together, since his left hand was immobile, thanks to Rin. Then we pulled a blanket over us. When he leaned against the door, I leaned against him.

“I didn’t even realize he shot me,” I whispered. “Not until he jammed his thumb into the burn.” The wound throbbed, almost consuming my thoughts. I preferred the pain. I’d very nearly never felt pain again.

Sam spoke into my hair. “Adrenaline does that.”

Outside, snow-covered trees slid past and mountains grew in the distance. I’d done a lot of walking in my life. From Purple Rose Cottage to Rangedge Lake to Sam’s cabin to Heart. Later, from Heart to Purple Rose Cottage to Menehem’s lab and back to Heart. I was used to journeys taking days.

Even though Stef kept complaining how slowly vehicles had to travel over the ice and uncertain road, this was so much faster than walking. It would have been luxurious if I weren’t an exile. If we weren’t fleeing for our lives.

We were all exiles.

I gazed out the window, looking through my reflection in the glass. In the north, illuminated by the templelight and silhouetted by starlight, I could just make out the dozens of obelisks beyond the city.

Templedark Memorial stood solemn and waiting, a silent testimony of our fragile existence. As much as I wanted to forget the days we spent in remembrance of darksouls, the sensations whirled up as we drove past. Wind in the trees, the scent of sulfur from nearby fumaroles, and the tolling of the bell rung seventy-two times. One peal for every darksoul.

Soon, Templedark Memorial faded from view. Trees huddled over us, and flakes of snow looked like tiny darts in the headlights. Beyond that, the whole world was very, very dark, and it seemed we were driving off the edge of it.

The baby fell asleep, and Geral and Orrin began speaking in low voices in the front. Sam held me in his left arm, injured hand resting on my hip, while he stroked my hair with his good hand. His touch was soothing, and finally we were getting away. We were alive.

“I couldn’t do it, Sam.”

His fingers paused over my cheek, then continued down in a warm trail. He didn’t ask what I was talking about.

“I should have. I had a chance, and I hesitated. If I’d just acted, we wouldn’t have to deal with him ever again. Whatever hate he spews in our absence, it’s because I didn’t just shoot him.”

The vehicle slowed further and crawled over a lump in the road. The baby whimpered, and everyone tensed, but she didn’t wake.

“No matter what Deborl does,” Sam said, “his actions are his. You shouldn’t accept any blame for what he chooses to do.”

“But if I’d just done it—”

“No. He’s still responsible for his actions.”

“All right.” That made me feel a little better, but I still should have done it. Neither Sam nor Stef would have hesitated.

“And either way,” Sam murmured, “Janan would still be ascending on Soul Night. We’d still be escaping Heart, because Deborl isn’t the only one to feel that way. If you’d done it, that might have—in others’ eyes—proven every awful thing he said about you.”

But still. The idea of never having to deal with Deborl again . . .

“Regardless.” Sam’s voice was warm and deep and filled with compassion. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

As the sun rose, Orrin pointed out bulges in the land that hadn’t been there before. The road had buckled under the pressure, leaving cobblestones jutting up at strange angles. Everywhere, ice shone blinding-bright in the sunshine, in sheets or icicles or hoarfrost on trees.

No wonder we’d been forced to travel so slowly; at anything more than a crawl, we’d have slid off the road.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that we came within sight of Menehem’s lab, a colossal building of iron and ugliness. Stables and cisterns stood on one side of the structure. Snow coated the solar panels on top of the lab, but they could be swept clean with one of the extendable brushes Menehem had kept inside.

All eight vehicles formed a semicircle and engines quieted. Calm stole across the yard. Even the wind died. With the ice dressing the world in white, the front of Menehem’s laboratory was as still as a painting.

“Are you ready?” Sam squeezed me. “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

He was right. Everyone in our vehicle was looking for me to make the first move. This had been my father’s lab. He’d left it for me, as well as everything inside. Including the poison that would put Janan to sleep again, if we could produce enough.

I wasn’t sure I liked the responsibility of this kind of power, the ability to stop reincarnation.

But reincarnation wasn’t natural, and souls suffered for it. Didn’t that mean I needed to right this wrong if I could? I couldn’t ignore it. But this power, the existence of the poison being manufactured in that building, was too much for one person.

Just like the power of reincarnation was too great for Janan. He shouldn’t get to decide who lived and who never lived. He took away their choices.

I stepped out of the vehicle, cold air nipping at my cheeks as I turned toward the building. The lab key turned in the lock. I typed in the pass code, and the machinery beeped. Only when the door swung open did others begin to join me outside, gathering babies and bags to lug toward the wide door.

“What is this place?” someone muttered, sharp on the winter evening. I’d forgotten we hadn’t told everyone what was here.

Sam stepped alongside of me. “Ready?”

I flashed a tight smile, hoping he’d ignore my worry. “When we came here last autumn, there was a dead raccoon inside. So I’m a little nervous about what else might have crawled in during our absence.”

He chuckled, and together we went inside.

Lights flickered on, illuminating dusty furniture. The front section of the lab held the living quarters: kitchen, bedroom, and a small walled-off washroom. Low humming emanated from the laboratory in the back, where the machine produced the poison that had twice put Janan to sleep.

Slowly, others filed inside and made themselves comfortable on the bed, sofa, and the floor. Soon, I’d have to tell them exactly what this place was, though some could probably guess its purpose.

And would I tell them that the machine was making poison right now? Sam had only told me the other night, before the earthquake.

“Now what?” Sam asked me as we finished helping bring in supplies. The others would stay here only a few days, just long enough to recover from their injuries.

“Now we hope the sylph come.” I’d been certain they would be here waiting for me. They’d found me at Purple Rose Cottage, and then followed me here when I decided I needed to study what my father had done to them.

As Sam and I helped the temporary residents of Menehem’s lab clean the area and prepare an evening meal, I kept an eye on the forest outside. The sylph had to come. I needed to know what they wanted from me, and if they could help me stop Janan.

But when darkness fell, only natural shadows filled the woods.