Rebel Born (Secondborn #3)(100)

Hawthorne turns and hugs me. I hug him back. “Reykin makes you happy,” he says softly.

I swallow a sob. “I don’t even know what happiness is, Hawthorne. I think I was happy for a moment when I was with you—before you became firstborn. Reykin makes me sane. One day maybe he and I can be happy together. I hope so. I’ll fight for it.”

We let go of each other. “You said you have a plan?” he asks.

“I do. You need to create chaos in this world. You and Roselle must seize power from Crow by creating an army, and force any pieces of him that you find to retreat into my world. I’ll set traps for him there. We must kill all of him if either world has any hope of peace. You need to suss out the anchors to every world you can find here, control them, and eliminate them one by one. He can’t be allowed to hide or come back. I don’t think you want whatever he’s cultivating on the other side of those anchors coming here to nest. We’ll keep one anchor open between our worlds. Only one, so we can monitor it at all times, until we decide to close it.”

“There’s an anchor in the Sword Palace. Now that you’ve shown me through your memories, I know what it looks like. Should we keep that one?”

“Can you secure the Sword Palace?”

“I think so. It’s empty now. Like I said, Crow hasn’t been here in days. He must be distracted—or we’re not a big enough problem to come looking for now.”

“You will be soon. You’ll have to be careful. Look out for Roselle—she’s The Sword here.”

“I’ll protect her.”

“I know you will.” I get to my feet and offer him a hand up. He takes it, squeezes it, and then lets it go when he’s standing. We move back toward Roselle.

She walks into Hawthorne’s arms and hugs him. “What was that all about?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he whispers in her ear, squeezing her tighter.

“You better,” she replies, smiling.

I tip my chin and stare up at the slithering sky. “I have an idea how you can get them down.” I manifest a golden bow and a quiver filled with golden, shimmering arrows. I select a sharp one, nock it onto the glowing string, and pull it back until it’s taut, aiming it toward the sky. When I loose the arrow, it travels up and into the collective above, dislodging a slew of mind-controlled people. They plummet to the ground, dropping around us like fallen, wingless angels. They bounce and groan but appear unscathed.

I glance at Roselle. “Show me how you wake them up.”



After dislodging potential soldiers from the sky for a few hours—awakening them from the collective, reassuring them that they’ll be okay, reorienting them, and seeing to their needs—it’s time for me to go. I’m cutting it dangerously close.

I teach Hawthorne and Roselle how to fold space, and together we force the anchor city and Tyburn’s Temple to meet so we can punch through from one to the other. Ahead of us, the metropolitan street where I entered this world lies like a misty veil over the round chamber of Tyburn’s Temple. I walk seamlessly through the veil. Hawthorne and Roselle join me on the sidewalk. Quickly we set off in the direction of the anchor building I originally came through.

“This is it.” I gesture toward the silver doorway with the nine Fates holograms. “I don’t know if you won’t be able to use this after I leave. Reykin couldn’t come here. It may be because he doesn’t exist in this world, or because he doesn’t have an implant to act as a key—I don’t know for sure. You’ll have to find the other anchors to our world. I’ll be looking on the other side as well. If you need me, send me another beacon. I’ll return if I can. Stay away from this building once I go through the anchor. It could explode.”

“What about that one?” Roselle points to the crow-adorned building across the street.

“I don’t know what’s in there, but it feels very . . . wrong.”

Roselle cringes. “I feel it, too.”

“If this is an anchor, then maybe that is, too,” Hawthorne says.

“Yes, but to where?” Roselle asks.

“Build your army, and then find out,” I advise. “I have to go now. I’ll return as soon as I can.” I start to walk toward the doors.

Hawthorne grabs my arm, hauls me back, and lifts me off my feet to hug me fiercely. “I still love you,” he whispers.

A sob catches in my throat. “I still love you, too,” I whisper back. “Take care of Roselle.”

“I promise.”

He sets me on my feet. I grasp the handle of the silver door, open it, and slip through.





Chapter 19

Breaking My Chains

The onyx room’s in shambles.

It’s a bloodbath. Pieces of soldiers lie shredded on the floor. Blood spatters the walls. Nothing moves except for a lump of scaly flesh in the corner. Cherno wheezes, laboring for breath. Disoriented from traveling through the anchor, I stumble to him. I kneel beside the dragon-man and place a shaky hand on his forearm, finding it colder than normal and slick with congealing blood.

“Cherno,” I whisper.

He opens his eyes. The flickering flames within them are mere embers now. “It’s Crow,” comes Cherno’s guttural response. “He’s here.”