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“Makes this city grow food,” I finished. “Yeah. Ildithia’s food production supplied dozens of other cities, Cody. Prof’s little tirade might have some very lasting consequences.”

I dug out my mobile and typed a message to Knighthawk.

How soon after an Epic dies do you need to freeze their cells?

Soon, he wrote back. Most cells die quickly. CO2 poisoning, without the heart pumping blood. Epic DNA melts fast, in addition. We don’t know the reason yet. Why do you ask?

I think Prof just started a famine, I wrote to him. He killed an Epic last night who was vital to the economy.

You can try to harvest me a sample, Knighthawk replied. Some cells last longer than others. Skin cells…some stem cells…The DNA problem works on a kind of weird half-life, with most of it being gone in seconds, but some individual cells could linger. But kid, it’s REALLY hard to get a culture going from old Epic cells.

I showed the messages to Cody.

“It’ll be dangerous to go out,” he noted. “We don’t have Megan to give us new faces.”

“Yeah, but if we can prevent starvation, isn’t it worth the risk?”

“Sure, sure,” Cody said. “Unless we expose ourselves to Prof—who could very well have people watching those bodies—and then get ourselves killed. Which would leave only three Reckoners, instead of five, to confront him. Assuming he didn’t torture our secrets out of us and then go kill the rest of the team. Which he probably would. All for a very, very slight chance that we might be able to make a motivator that might feed people.”

I swallowed. “Right. Fine. You laid it on a bit thick.”

“Yeah, well,” he said. “Y’all’ve got a history of not listening to logic.”

“Like your logic of modern rock and roll being derived from bagpipes?”

“That one’s true, now,” Cody said. “Look it up. Elvis was a Scot.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, walking over to switch off the imager and the view of Stormwind’s face. It hurt, but today I would hold myself back.

A moment later, Mizzy poked her head into our room. “Hey,” she said. “Your girlfriend’s awake. Do you want to go smooch or—”

I was already on my way.

MEGAN was sitting up, holding a bottle of water in both hands, her back to the wall. I passed Abraham on my way in, and he nodded. According to his—admittedly limited—medical knowledge, she was fine. We’d unhooked the harmsway from her hours ago.

Megan gave me a wan smile and took a pull on her water bottle. The others left us alone, Abraham steering Cody away by the shoulder. I let out a long sigh of relief as I reached Megan. Despite Abraham’s assurances, a piece of me had been terrified she wouldn’t wake up. Yes, she could reincarnate if killed, but what if she didn’t die, just slipped into a coma?

She cocked an eyebrow at my obvious relief. “I feel,” she said, “like a barrel of green ducks at a Fourth of July parade.”

I cocked my head, then nodded. “Oh, yeah. Good metaphor.”

“David. That was supposed to be nonsense…a joke.”

“Really? Because it makes perfect sense.” I gave her a kiss. “See, you feel healed, and that’s not right—like the ducks, thinking they’re out of place. But nobody’s truly out of place at a parade, so they simply fit in. Like you fit in here.”

“You’re absolutely mental,” she said as I settled down beside her, my arm around her shoulders.

“How do you feel?”

“Awful.”

“So the healing didn’t take?”

“It did,” she said, staring at the water bottle.

“Megan, it’s all right. Yes, the mission went awry. We lost Tia. We’re recovering from that. Moving forward.”

“I went dark, David,” she said softly. “Darker than I’ve been in a long time. Darker than when I killed Sam…darker than I’ve been since before meeting you.”

“You pulled out of it.”

“Barely,” she said, then glanced at her arm. “I was supposed to be past this. We were supposed to have figured it all out.”

I pulled her close, and she rested her head on my shoulder. I wished I knew what to say, but everything I thought of was stupid. She didn’t want false reassurances. She wanted answers.

So did I.

“Prof killed Tia,” Megan whispered. “I could end up doing the same to you. Did you hear her? At the end?”

“I’d hoped you were unconscious for that part,” I admitted.

“She said he’d warned her and she hadn’t listened. David…I’m warning you. I can’t control this, even with the secret of the weaknesses.”

“Well,” I said, “we’ll merely have to do the best we can.”

“But—”

“Megan,” I said, lifting her head to look her in the eyes. “I’d rather die than be without you.”

“You mean that?”

I nodded.

“Selfish,” she said. “Do you know what it would do to me to know that I’d killed you?”

“Then let’s see that it doesn’t happen, all right?” I said. “I don’t think it will—but I’ll risk it, to stay near you.”

She breathed out, then rested her head on my shoulder again. “Slontze.”

“Yeah. Thanks for trying my idea with Prof.”

“Sorry I wasn’t able to make it work.”

“Not your fault. I don’t think we want to try another dimensional version of him.”

“What then?” she asked. “We can’t just give up.”

I smiled. “I’ve got an idea.”

“How crazy is it?”

“Pretty darn crazy.”

“Good,” she said. “The world’s gone mad; joining it is the only solution.” She was quiet a moment. “Do…I have a part in it?”

“Yes, but we shouldn’t need you to overextend your powers.”

She relaxed, snuggling against my side, and we sat there together for a time. “You know,” I finally said, “I really wish my father could have met you.”

“Because he’d be curious to meet a good Epic?”

“Well, that too,” I said. “But I think he’d like you.”

“David, I’m abrasive, cocky, and loud.”

“And brilliant,” I said, “and an awesome shot. Commanding. Decisive. My dad, he liked peop

le who were straightforward. Said he’d rather get cussed out by someone who meant it than be smiled at by someone who didn’t.”

“Sounds like a great man.”

“He was.” The kind of man others ignored or talked over because he was too quiet, and not quick with something clever—but also the kind of man who would run to help others when everyone else fled for safety.

Calamity, I missed that man.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” I whispered.

Megan sat up, looking at me with a sharp motion. “What kind?”

“Persistent,” I said. “Terrible. Something about loud noises, jarring sensations. I don’t get it—I don’t think it’s something I’m afraid of.”

“Any…other oddities?” she asked.

I met her gaze. “How much do you remember from Sharp Tower?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Tia’s words. And before that…gunfire. Lots of it. How did we survive that?”

I drew my lips to a line.

“Sparks!” she said. “How likely do you think…I mean…”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Could be nothing. There were a lot of powers being flung around that room—maybe there was a leftover forcefield, or…or maybe some pocket of another reality…”

She rested her hand on my shoulder.

“Sure you want to stay around me?” I asked.

“I’d rather die than do otherwise.” She squeezed my shoulder. “But I don’t like this at all, David. It feels like we’re holding our breath, waiting to see who explodes first. Do you think Prof and Tia had conversations like this, where they decided it was worth the risk of remaining together?”

“Maybe. But I don’t see that we have any option but to proceed. I’m not going to leave you, and you’re not going to leave me. It’s like I said. We have to accept the danger.”

“Unless there’s another way,” Megan said. “A way to make sure I’m not a danger to you, or to anyone else, ever again.”

I frowned, uncertain what she meant. But she seemed to decide something, looking at me, and she lifted her hand to caress my face. “You can’t say you haven’t considered it,” she said softly.

“?‘It’?”

“The entire time he’s been here,” Megan said, “I’ve wondered. Is this my way out?”


Tags: Brandon Sanderson The Reckoners Fantasy