Endless Knight(57)

Ogen would be too phobic to follow me, Lark too spineless in general. Death couldn’t without removing his armor first.

My lips curled. If he did shuck his armor and follow? Win-win. Either I escaped, or I’d face him with his defenses lowered.

What would Jack do in this situation? He was always practical. Except at the end of his life when he’d known better than to stay with me, but did it anyway. Don’t think about that! Not now, not yet . . .

Would I survive the drop? Would the water be deep enough? Knowing my luck, I’d probably bean another car.

As I climbed, I recalled a long-ago conversation with my grandmother. She’d been explaining my weaknesses; I’d just wanted to play with my dolls. Losing interest, I’d absently asked, “De-cappa-what?”


I knew Gran had revealed at least one other way I could die, but I couldn’t remember. Today, I’d be betting my life that she hadn’t said: “You can drown.”


Once we reached the beginning of the bridge, I gasped, “I need to rest.”


Lark slowed her horse. “No can do, Empress. I got the falcon scouting the entire county, and we’ve got Teeth all around us.”


Even better. I’d float right past them! “I can’t walk any farther. My feet are about to fall off.”


Death said, “Carry on, or I can drag you behind my horse.”


“Too tired,” I wheezed.

Studying my face, Death narrowed his gaze. “Have you a plan, creature?”


“Can’t read my thoughts anymore?”


“Perhaps not. But I can tell you are malingering.”


“Malingering? I don’t speak S.A.T.” The fog was so thick I couldn’t see the middle of the bridge. Would I even know where to jump? I might leap right onto the exposed edge of the riverbed. After my experience in the mines, the last place I wanted to be was in the water. Could I make myself do this?

“You act exhausted,” Death said. “But you’ve fight left in you yet.” He sounded approving.

“I do. And I’m going to fight my way. On my time.”


His eyes widened with realization. “Stem your idiocy—”


I was already running, sprinting as far along the bridge as I dared before veering toward the railing. Death spurred his mount, Ogen on his heels. Right before they reached me, I clambered atop the concrete railing. “No closer!” Unable to use my arms to steady myself, I tottered. The railing was the width of a balance beam. I’d trained on a beam—I could do a backflip on this if I needed to, I assured myself.

I chanced a look down and gulped. Not even a glimpse of the water. Which meant I couldn’t time my jump around a passing car or a piece of house. I’d have to fall blindly into that thick bank of fog.

Behind me, Death dismounted with a curse of frustration. “Do not do this thing.” Over my shoulder, I watched him ease closer, just as he had in one of my visions. A sense of déjà vu racked me as I recalled him at the edge of the cane field, stretching his arm toward me. I shook my head hard, almost pitching off the rail.

“If you jump, you’ll die, Empress.” Debatable. “As I’m closest to you, I’ll harvest your icons. You’d give them to me so easily?” Death tsked. “Our game’s no fun if you’re weak.”


“I’ve got your weak.” I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes.

Stepped off.

He bellowed curses as I plummeted. Rushing air whipped my hair above my head like the tail of a comet. My stomach dropped. I fell, and fell, and fell—


Water! Freezing!

The impact wrenched the breath from my lungs, the cold stunning my muscles. Rapids tossed me as I struggled to stay above the surface using only my legs. I sputtered, choking for air as debris battered me. Boards with nails, a piece of corrugated tin. Gouge. Slice. I felt the pressure of the wounds—and the odd warmth of my blood in the water around me—but not pain. Numb.

The foggy shore slid by so quickly. Racing. Like the road had when I’d been on the back of Jack’s motorcycle.

Over all the sounds, one roar grew louder. Was I moving faster? Drop-off ahead? I couldn’t wipe my eyes to see. . . .

“Ahhh!” I plunged dozens of feet. The pressure of the falls shoved me into the deep, but I bobbed up like a cork. Just as quickly I was sucked down again. A vortex?

Only this time, instead of surfacing, I felt my arms yanked behind me. The rope was caught on something! I strained to see in the churning water.

Eerie shapes and muted sounds all around me. A watery grave. No—not yet!

Behind me were huge blocks of cement, spiked with twisted rebar rods. I must be caught on one. If I could get lower, I could unhook my arms. But the water kept whooshing me higher like a geyser.

I struggled to swim down against that vertical current. Weakening.

I was caught fast, couldn’t find the edge of the concrete. I used my claws to slice behind me at anything I came in contact with. Cement, metal . . . running out of air . . . Fight, Evie!

My lungs screamed, my eyes bulging. Trapped. My mind was still working, my will to live clamoring—but my body . . . stopped.

Arms limp, legs dangling.

Maybe I’d be seeing my family soon, my friends. Jack. Maybe Arcana didn’t get to dream about heaven—