Black City Page 40


Sebastian’s green eyes flick up to mine and hold steady. “It’ll make it much faster, nipper. Not that you deserve it,” he explains.


By “it” he means my death. They obviously want it to be quick for the audience at home watching on TV—nothing’s more boring than a slow execution.


“I’m going to relish watching you die,” he says. “I hope you burn like the others.”


I try to swallow, but my throat feels scratchy and dry. I remember Jana bursting into flames, and I just pray that doesn’t happen to me. My allergy to acacia isn’t quite as severe as full-blooded Darklings, although in these quantities, I’m not so certain. But maybe I’ll get lucky. I laugh at the ridiculousness of that thought. Lucky? I’m about to be crucified.


Sebastian turns to the audience and reads from the scroll, his voice carrying across the town square.


“For the crime of killing the Tracker Gregory Thompson, Ash Fisher has been sentenced to death by crucifixion.”


My knees feel like jelly, and it takes all my willpower to stay standing. I don’t want to look scared, not with the whole country watching. I need to be brave. I can do this.


I wish Natalie were here.


The audience starts to murmur, getting agitated, reminding me of the last execution that took place here. I glance at the school’s clock tower to my right. One minute until midday; the show’s about to start. I peer over at the viewers’ stand again. Dad’s holding back the tears, trying to be brave for me. Beetle’s hugging Day. Sigur still isn’t here, and neither is Natalie, but I’ve given up hope she’ll come.


The clock chimes.


One . . .


The crowd falls silent.


Two . . .


My shackles are removed.


Three . . .


The cross is lowered.


Four . . .


I’m bound to the cross with silver chains. They scorch my skin.


Five . . .


The acacia fumes fill my lungs, choking me.


Six . . .


The minister says a prayer over my body.


Seven . . .


The guards grab the ropes holding the cross.


Eight . . .


They winch the cross upright.


Nine . . .


My heart pounds loudly.


Ten . . .


Dad’s sobs ring out across the square.


Eleven . . .


An image of Natalie flashes across my mind.


Twelve . . .


“Stop!”


44


NATALIE


SIGUR LANDS IN THE CENTER of the crowd, and sets me down.


“Stop!” I shout again.


“Natalie!” Ash calls out, his voice cracked.


The crowd parts as I run toward him. Sebastian cuts me off, grabbing hold of me, but Sigur growls at him, baring his long fangs. Sebastian lets me go.


I reach the cross and stare up at Ash. He’s gasping for breath, his skin already blistering from the acacia wood. Tendrils of smoke start to caress his arms, turning them black.


“Ash, I love you!” I call up to him.


His skin crackles. The acrid smell of scorched flesh stings my nostrils as flames start to flicker out of his burned skin.


I stretch up a hand and touch his feet—it’s the only part of him I can reach. My heartbeat speeds up as his gets weaker by the second.


“Fight, Ash! Please, I love you. Don’t leave me.”


The flames suddenly erupt, tearing down his arms, engulfing them in a raging ball of fire. Vivid yellows, oranges and reds melt into one another as the flames coil and twist into the sky, fanned by the wind. They blaze like wings, terrifying, beautiful. A phoenix rising from the ashes.


The crowd gasps.


Ash struggles for breath, his chest shuddering with the effort. His glittering black eyes flick down and catch mine. Flakes of ash float around him.


“I love you,” I say again. “I—”


45


ASH


“—NEED YOU, PLEASE, don’t leave me, Ash,” she says to me.


The molten heat along my arms is like a thousand daggers slashing my skin, making every nerve ending explode in agonizing pain. The sensation is almost unbearable as the flesh is scorched from my bones, but still I refuse to cry out.


“I love you!” she says again.


She shouldn’t be saying this, not here, not in front of the cameras. She follows my gaze and glowers at the TV reporters.


“You heard me! I love him. I love a Darkling, and I’m not ashamed of it. We haven’t done anything wrong.”


“Natalie, no . . . ,” I stammer.


Agitated murmurs spread across the crowd. This isn’t the same crowd that watched Jana and Tom die. These people have seen too much over the past weeks; their eyes have been opened. One by one, they turn their backs to the stage, refusing to watch me die just like the Legion guards did during Jana and Tom’s execution. Purian Rose has the power to execute us, but he doesn’t have the power to make us watch. It’s a small but significant protest against the Sentry. I know that somewhere in Centrum, Purian Rose is having a seizure.


Natalie touches my feet again, sending a jolt of electricity through my body, which sparks my heart. It beats more powerfully for a second, joining the rhythm of her own.


I take an unsteady breath. The air barely reaches the walls of my lungs. I can feel them closing up.


No, not yet. I’m not ready.


“It’s all right, Ash,” Natalie whispers. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”


Our hearts flutter in unison, and I focus on their comforting beat.


Then a sensation like winter’s chill creeps up my legs and into my stomach as Death’s grip takes hold.


It’s happening.


“Ash, no,” she sobs.


“It’s okay,” I say.


Ba-boom ba-boom ba-boom.


“Stay with me,” she says.


Ba-boom ba-boom.


I rasp for air, but my lungs remain hollow.


“I love you, Ash.”


Ice fills my heart.


Ba-boom . . .


46


NATALIE


I KNOW he’s dead. His heart’s stopped beating inside me.


I lower my hand.


Sebastian indicates for the guards to douse the flames. He looks at me with cold, cruel eyes, a malicious grin on his lips. He got what he wanted. Ash is dead. The people in the crowd turn to face the stage once more, wanting to watch Ash being removed from the cross. I stare directly at the nearest television camera.


“This is a message for Purian Rose. I’ve realized something about you. You’ve terrorized us, turned families against each other, made us fear the Darklings, and why? Because without fear, you have no power,” I say. “Well, I’m not afraid of you anymore. I will not live my life in fear. From this day on, you have no power over me or the people of this city.”


Beetle stands up and pumps his fist in the air, shouting, “No fear, no power. No fear, no power!”


His protest call is picked up by the rest of Humans for Unity, then the crowd, before sweeping across the whole city like rolling thunder, thousands of voices chanting in unison, “NO FEAR, NO POWER! NO FEAR, NO POWER!”


I face the cross again. Ash is now lying on the ground, his arms and chest blackened and burned. Sebastian roughly peels the silver chains off Ash’s wrists and ankles; the metal has seared into his skin, and I cover my mouth to stifle a sob.


Minister Fisher, Day, Beetle and Sigur join me. We all watch in silence as Minister Fisher cradles his son’s body and lovingly strokes Ash’s hair. I expect it to stir and coil around his father’s fingers like it normally would, but it remains still. Everything about Ash is so still.


Day and Beetle hug me. I choke back the tears.


“We should get him ready for So’Kamor,” Sigur says softly.


Ash’s dad shakes his head. “He’s having a human burial. It’s how he was raised.”


Sigur doesn’t argue.


Sebastian hovers nearby. A wooden cart has been brought over to take Ash’s body away.


“I want to say good-bye first,” I say.


Minister Fisher gently lays the body back on the ground, and I kneel beside Ash. I move a strand of hair away from his closed eyes. He looks so peaceful, you’d almost think he was asleep.


“So begins my heart, so begins our life, everlasting,” I whisper.


I press my lips against his.


A powerful jolt of electricity passes between us. It zings through my body, straight into my heart.


I gasp.


A second, faint heartbeat joins mine.


I grip Ash’s hands, and the heartbeat gets stronger.


Please, please, please.


His eyes flicker open.


EPILOGUE


ASH


NATALIE SLINGS MY BANDAGED ARM around her shoulder and supports me as we leave the hospital. The burns will never fully heal, even with my Darkling regenerative abilities; I will always bear the scars of my execution. It’s been a few days since my “miraculous resurrection,” as the papers are calling it. Of course, Natalie and I know the truth. When my heart stopped beating, it triggered the dormant Trypanosoma vampirum in my blood, which kept enough oxygen circulating in my body to stop brain death. Then when Natalie kissed me, it reactivated my heart and . . . well, here I am.


Obviously, the truth isn’t anywhere near as impressive as the idea of me being a messiah. “Black Phoenix,” they’re calling me. The boy who rose from the ashes.


I’m not comfortable being the poster boy for Humans for Unity’s revolution, but at least I’m not doing it alone. After her televised outburst at my execution, Humans for Unity asked Natalie to be their ambassador. They’ve united with the Legion Liberation Front to defend the city, as we all know a reprisal is coming after the whole city cried out, “No fear, no power!”


I was worried Natalie would be arrested after admitting to everyone that she loved me, but that hasn’t happened. The Sentry government must be afraid of what will happen if they arrest either of us; it could be the spark that ignites civil war.


We walk down City End toward my house, following the line of the Boundary Wall. I don’t feel any desire to be on the other side. Everything I have, everything I need, is right beside me now.


Of course, I’d like to see the wall come down one day. There’s still a division between the citizens about whether or not we should reintegrate the Darklings into society. Maybe in time it will happen, but it’s going to take a lot of persuading. We can’t go back to the way things were before the war, with Darklings feeding on humans and poisoning them with Haze. We have to come up with a new solution that satisfies everyone. Things won’t happen overnight, as Roach keeps reminding me.


Until then, I’m going to spend as much time with Natalie as possible. It’s not every day you get a second chance at life, and a second chance to be with the girl you love.


She smiles up at me, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling.


“I love you,” I say to her.


“I love you too,” she says, then kisses me. We enter the Rise and find my house nestled between the two sleeping giants as always, except I know immediately something’s wrong. The church looks like it’s been shaken by an earthquake—pews are upturned, holy books are scattered across the floor, windows are smashed.


“What’s going on?” I say.


Dad looks anxiously at the Sentry guards surrounding him.


“You have a visitor, in your room,” he says.


It’s only then that I notice one of the guards has a dagger poised at Dad’s neck. He shakes his head ever so slightly. I try to act casual, but panic is setting in. Natalie takes my hand, and we head to the bell tower.


“Who do you think it is?” she whispers.


I shrug. “Only one way to find out.”


I push open the door.


Purian Rose stands by the arched window, sinking his teeth into a bloodred, heart-shaped apple from the trees in the cemetery. Golden juice drips down his bottom lip, and he wipes it away with his thumb, turning his cold gray eyes toward us.


“I hope you don’t mind, but I helped myself to an apple from your orchard,” he says to me in his strange, light voice.


“That’s fine. They’re all filled with maggots anyway,” I say.


Purian Rose gives us a waxy smile. Up close, his skin has a very unpleasant, stretched look about it, and his hair is unnaturally black. He places the half-eaten apple carefully on the window ledge.


“What do you want?” I ask.


He sighs wearily. “I feel like I’ve been neglecting my spiritual duties as of late. It’s time I started paying a little more attention to my flock.”


His threat is clear: he’s keeping tabs on me and my dad.


“If you do anything to hurt my father . . . ,” I snarl.


Purian Rose gives me a chilling smile. “Well, that all depends on you now, doesn’t it?”


“How so?”


“I must confess, even as a religious man, I was quite surprised to see you rise from the dead. Some would say it was a sign from His Mighty.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I, of course, know better. Your resurrection was no miracle. You can die as easily as anyone else.”


“What’s your point? Other than you need to find a more effective way to execute me next time?” I say.


“My point, Mr. Fisher, is I don’t like false prophets. Especially ones that threaten to unbalance the society I have spent the past fifteen years so carefully building.”


“Then why don’t you just arrest me or kill me?” I say. “I’m right here. Now’s your chance.”


“There is nothing I would love more than to slice your throat, but all that will do is make a martyr of you and give Humans for Unity more ammunition to rally support against me.” He looks out the window at Black City. “And arresting you will just arouse anger. The people of this city seem to have taken you into their hearts. I hear they call you Black Phoenix? The ‘boy who rose from the ashes.’”

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