Chapter 54—Earth

“Amun thinks that once you're born, the prison world will crumble no matter what you do. They think your appearance signals the end. Or at least, Dad’s positive it’s true. The one line I know for sure is ‘bridge the divide and rescue the wartorn.’ Dad’s obsessed with you being the only person who can bring people back over from Terra to Earth.” His eyes are wide and concerned when he says, “Without you, Dad thinks every single one of us with powers will die when our mirror dies as Terra crumbles.”

“I'm some kind of a savior, then? I thought Amun only wants me because if I collapse the worlds, their powers here magnify and they won't need to Wake anyone else.”

“That's true, too. They do think that once the prisons are gone, everyone will have more power. We aren't sure whether the women will get theirs back or not.”

“Kahn said all the women on Earth gave up their powers millennia ago to form the prison world.”

John’s eyes flash. “You know Kahn?”

I step back and bump into the cabinet behind me. “How do you know him?”

“We went to school together. I've known him for ages. He's with Isis, though, and they want you dead.”

I shake my head. “Only if I Wake.”

“Which you have.” He leans against the chair back. “Wait, you met him, and he didn’t figure it out?” He whistles.

“They pushed and pushed.”

His smile nearly splits his face in half. “I bet they did. You’re an impressive lady.”

I raise one eyebrow. “Life has taught me not to trust anyone.”

“You’re smart to have learned that lesson, but eventually one of them will convince the others that they need to destroy you while they still can, before you can bridge the worlds. They think if the worlds don’t come together, Terra will continue onward.”

“Um.” I bite my lip. “I kept it from Kahn, but I might have Lifted in front of one of their men who was tailing me.”

John frowns. “Did he see you?”

I nod.

He swears. “Well.”

A wave of exhaustion rolls over me, and I sit down and rest my head on my arms. I want to curl up into a ball and cry for a month, but I can't. I need John's help, and I’m running out of time. “I need to find your dad.” So I can take one last stab at learning anything that might save Jesse. . .and kill him before Isis kills me if I can’t save him.

“You need a nap. You look like you're about to collapse.”

I shake my head. “I can't go to sleep. I’m not ready yet.”

“What are you thinking? Have you seen Jesse's body? Are you absolutely sure he's dead?” John asks.

He's too smart for his own good. I imagine bringing Jesse’s energy over—would it go to his corpse? Would I be inadvertently creating some sort of undead version of Jesse? I shudder. No way—surely not. “I've seen it.” I gulp. “And here’s the honest truth. I don't want to live in a world without my brother, John. I can't do it.”

He covers his face with his hands, and I can barely hear his next words. “You're planning to kill my dad, and then let Isis kill you, aren't you?”

John figured out my original plan. Surely Kahn will have figured it out, too, or he will the second he finds out that I can Lift. If John helps, I can do it. I can get my revenge, and pass from this world. Jesse and I will be together—heaven or hell or whatever comes next. The threat of prison destruction will be averted. It’s what Jesse would want. It’s the right thing to do.

But.

Maybe I can bring Jesse back. Maybe he doesn't have to be gone, not really. Maybe I have a second chance at doing things right and saving his life. It might unleash monsters on Earth. It might burn the world down.

I’m not sure whether I care.

“Jesse’s Wasting.”

His mouth drops open. “You're wondering whether he might survive. . .if you bring the worlds together.”

I wanted to tell Kahn, badly. The universe kept shoving him at me, and some glowing feeling I can’t understand told me to trust him, but I didn’t.

And yet somehow, in spite of everything, I do trust John.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m hoping.” I look at my fingers—the torn cuticles. The jagged nails. The dirt underneath each and every one. I’m no princess. I’m no savior.

I’m just me.

“Do you think it’s crazy? Would I be dooming the world if I try?”

John shrugs. “The world sucks. You don’t owe it a thing.”

I blink back tears, but it doesn’t work. They stream down my face. “You really think so?”

He walks toward me slowly.

I run into his arms, wrapping my hands around his waist. His arms tighten around me and for the first time in a very long time, I feel safe. I feel supported.

I don’t feel alone.

In the circle of John’s arms, by my own choice, for no reason other than that I choose to trust him, I think about my time in Terra. Knowing it was created with the power of all the women stuck there, the whole world must be molecularly different than Earth.

Which jogs a memory.

“I've only felt it twice,” I say, “but when I get really tired on Terra, like so tired I can't think straight, and so drained I can't Lift another thing, the world blurs. It almost. . .vibrates.”

“Vibrates? Like how?”

“I don't know how to explain it, but it's like everything around me buzzes. The last time it happened, my dad, my brother, and Kahn reached out and steadied me. It let me focus enough to Lift and launch several thousand projectiles, something I definitely didn't have the strength to do. I'm not sure where that power came from. It almost felt like I pulled that strength from the rocks in the wall, or the dirt beneath me, from Terra itself. I wonder if the entire world is constructed from the same power we use to Lift.”

John’s face scrunches up. “I know that Terra and Earth aren’t the same, but I was taught that our strength comes from within us—we literally can only use the power we have inside.”

It sounds an awful lot like what Kahn said about Lifting—but I definitely used power that I didn’t have inside. “I wonder whether it has to do with being the Warden, or the bridge, or whatever I am. Maybe unlike anyone else, I can see beneath the construct.”

“But how can you test that theory?”

“I can't, right? Because when I go to Terra, I forget everything I know here. It's like I'm blindfolded.” Surely that’s some part of the prison walls, I guess, but then an idea strikes me. If I want to create a bridge, ever, I'll have to tear off the blindfold. I’ll need to be able to see Earth from Terra. I think that’s the entire point.

“I think I may need to take a nap after all.”

“You're going to try bringing the worlds together.” John groans. “Have you really thought this through? This might save your brother.” He pauses. “Or it might destroy. . .everything.”

When I hear the words, this might save your brother, I stop listening. Because to me, that’s all that matters.

“I don’t remember Earth when I’m on Terra.” I tap my lip. “That’s the riddle I need to solve before I take a nap.”

“Not at all? Nothing?”

“The only times I’ve even had a hint of anything from Earth all involve Jesse. I’m pretty sure the first time I met him, the familiarity I felt was because I know him on Earth.” I think about the way I felt, the strange trust I had in him. “I’m already motivated on Terra, desperate really, to save him from the Wasting. All I need is to get one good message through to myself.” I laugh. “I need to Wake on Terra.”

“How can you do that?” John looks confused. “You said you forget everything.”

Actually, that’s not entirely correct. One puzzle from Earth has plagued me on Terra my entire life. In fact, it’s one of the only things that kept me sane on this end, because it helped me believe that I wasn’t crazy and that Terra was real. “I have an idea, but I doubt you’re going to like it much.”

John sighs. “What?”

“In fact, you may want to step out for a minute.”

He lifts one eyebrow. “Why?”

I pull a butter knife out of the drawer and click the gas burner on his stovetop to high. “Because I’m about to send myself a message.”

“How?”

“By burning it into my arm.”