Chapter 36: The Silence After

Jenna pushed down hard on the gas, her little car struggling through the blizzard. Inside, it rattled as if it was going to come apart, and the heater barely worked-icy air sneaked through cracks in the doors.

In the back seat, Mira held Zoe’s hand. Zoe’s lips were still a faded blue. Her chest was shallow rise and fall with her labored breathing, and her skin looked gray under the dim light from the dashboard.

Vance leaned over Dorian’s chest. “The stitches are ripped,” he said, pressing a clean cloth against the ripped stitching. “He needs fresh blood again, and soon.”

Dorian rested his head against the window; his skin looked pale, his eyes half-closed. He weakly pushed himself up and turned his head towards me. "We made it," he rasped.

I reached back and rested my hand on his knee. "We're almost there. Hang on." He didn't respond. He just closed his eyes.

\-

Jenna pulled the car up behind the hostel. Big flakes of snow had been plastering our windshield, but now they fell faster, piling up and melting only slowly.

Carrying Dorian in first-Jenna held his arms, and I held his legs, and he weighed a ton-we finally got him onto Jenna’s bed. The mattress dipped under his weight. Mira carried Zoe in next. Zoe’s arms were wrapped around Mira’s neck, her feet dragging behind her. Mira set her down near the heating vent, and the hot air blew across Zoe’s face. Her lips remained blue.

Vance went over to Dorian. Pulling off the old, dirty bandages, he produced a leather case from his bag, needle already threaded. “This is going to hurt,” he said. “I have nothing for pain.”

Dorian managed to nod once. “Just do it.”

Vance plunged the needle into his skin. Dorian’s back arched as he gasped, but he made no sound. His fingers curled around the edge of the mattress, his knuckles turning white as they gripped.

I turned away and knelt beside Zoe. Her hand felt like ice when I took it. Pressing two fingers against her wrist, I could feel a faint, thin thread of a pulse.

Mira sat on the floor beside me. Her face was white, and her eyes were ringed with dark circles. “She’s only getting colder,” she whispered, pulling the blanket higher over Zoe’s chest. “If something isn't done soon, she’s not going to last the night.”

I stared at Zoe’s still form. Her chest barely rose and fell with her breaths; her lips were still blue; her fingers felt ice-cold within Mira’s grip; her body twitched every so often-Raze was still fighting in there, clinging on by a thread.

“We have to get him out of her,” I said. “He’s killing her.”

Vance tied off the last stitch on Dorian's wound. He stood up, wiping his hands on a rag. “If Raze is removed from her body, she will die immediately,” he stated, shaking his head. “He’s keeping her heart beating.”

Mira looked up from Zoe’s face. “Then we transfer Raze into someone else. Someone who will accept him.”

Silence descended on the room. Jenna stopped pacing by the window; Vance stopped cleaning his needle. Dorian’s eyes opened on the bed.

“I already have his residue in my system,” Mira said, her hands trembling, but her voice steady. “I can take the rest of him. It won't kill me immediately.”

Jenna grabbed Mira’s arm. “You don’t have any magic left! You can barely stand! You are in no state to-”

Mira pulled her arm free. “Magic or not, it won't kill me immediately. I'm willing.” Her eyes found mine. “And that’s all that matters.”

Vance went over to the grimoire on the table and began flipping through pages. “There is a spell,” he announced. “A transfer spell. It will move Raze from Zoe’s body into Mira’s.” He glanced at Mira over the rim of his glasses. “However, the caster must cut their own palm, and combine it with the vessel’s blood.”

I stood up. “I'll do it.”

Dorian started to sit up. His hand flew to his fresh stitches. “No,” he rasped, a look of fear flashing in his eyes. “You’ve done too much. You’re exhausted.” He looked tired and scared, and it was the first time I had ever seen him scared of anything other than Raze or Cross. He was scared of losing me.

“Zoe’s my friend,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I’m not going to watch her die when I could do something.”

Vance handed me a silver knife from his kit. It was small and sharp, and the handle felt cold in my palm. “Cut your left palm,” he instructed. “Then cut Zoe’s, and hold them together while I read.”

I raised the knife over my hand. The blade caught the lamplight. My reflection stared back at me, its eyes tired and hollow. Dorian reached his hand toward me from the bed, his fingers stretching out over the blanket. “Arya,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please.”

I looked at him. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

I dragged the blade across my palm.

The cut was shallow, but the blood came quickly. It dripped onto my jeans and the floor. A warm wave of pain washed over me. I passed the knife to Jenna.

She took Zoe’s hand and made a quick, small cut across her palm. Zoe didn't react. She didn't even flinch.

I placed my bleeding hand against hers. Her blood felt ice cold against mine; mine was burning warm. They mixed in the space between our palms, and I felt a churning sensation in my stomach.

Vance began to read from the grimoire. The words felt old and heavy as they filled the room like smoke. Blue light swirled around our hands, warm and bright like a pulse.

Suddenly, Raze screamed, muffled through Zoe’s closed mouth. The sound filled the room, echoing off the walls, making my ears ring. "No!" he shrieked. "I won't go in there!"

Black smoke billowed from Zoe’s chest, curling toward the ceiling before shooting towards me and wrapping itself around my wrist like a snake. It felt cold and heavy and began to crawl up my arm. Mira grabbed my shoulder, digging her nails into my flesh. “Don’t let him in you!” she yelled. “Push him away!” The smoke scratched at my veins, desperate for an opening, looking for a way inside me. My whole arm went numb.

The blue light surrounding our hands flickered, then dimmed. “Arya!” Dorian shouted from the bed.

I closed my eyes. I thought of Zoe. The first day I met her, how shy and quiet she’d been. Her laugh when I told an awful joke. The gratitude in her eyes when I thanked her for helping me study.

I pushed.

The smoke left my wrist and shot across the room. It entered Mira's mouth, her nose, her eyes.

Mira gasped. Her body went stiff, and her eyes rolled back. Then she fell forward onto her hands and knees. Her back arched, and her fingers clawed at the floor.

The blue light died.

Zoe's lips turned pink. Her chest rose deeper. Her fingers curled against the blanket.

Mira looked up at me. Her eyes were black for one second. Then two. Then they turned brown. Her chest heaved, and sweat dripped from her chin onto the floor.

"I have him," she said. Her voice was steady, but her body was shaking. "He's inside me now."

I didn't feel relief. My stomach dropped. She had saved Zoe, but she had just put a collar around her own neck.