You did it. He says it over and over so that I finally understand him. He’s gone. You did it.

I don’t know what I did. I don’t know what will happen after this. And everything in me grieves at the thought that I might never find out, that in spite of everything, I will not be able to leave this place and see my mother again.

I manage to reach up and touch Red’s face with my hands. They are shaking so hard. He presses his own hands firmly against mine, and I’m grateful I can still feel their warmth.

Stay awake, Talin.

I’m trying, I tell him. I’m trying.

There is so much ahead for you.

I try to hold on to his words. There is so much that could be ahead for me, for us, for this world. Even when it is burning down, even when we are lying in blood, dying, too weak to do anything more than concentrate on taking one breath at a time. I blink, blink again. Red is still here. I pull him to me, think that I feel his lips touch mine.

I love you.

Save it, so you can tell me again later.

I love you.

I love you.

Through our link, I can feel the strength and light of his life coursing into mine, his heart beating for mine, keeping me afloat. I hang on to him with everything left in me, even as the corners of the world finally fade. There is the scarlet sky, the sound of shouts from below. There is Red.

Maybe there is nothing else ahead for us. Maybe there is only this.

42

RED

Once, I’d thought this city was beautiful. Now it looks like the end. The sky is bleeding, fires rage against the horizon, and the streets are smeared with blood from rebels and soldiers and Ghosts alike.

I can still feel Talin’s heartbeat through our link, and I take comfort in the fact that we are bonded. Down below, I think I catch a glimpse of Aramin and Jeran fighting side by side—and then of Talin’s mother cutting a line through the pandemonium.

The people need to see—I remember thinking as I come back into my body—they need to know that Constantine is dead.

I leave Talin’s side for an instant and drag Constantine’s lifeless form up, then carry him to the edge of the roof. There, I hold him up.

No one sees me at first. Then, someone shouts and points up at me. Her cry alerts another, who does the same. Another person joins in, and then another, and then the soldiers see. The clashes around the palace turn stilted, halt, restart in fits of chaos. But more and more people see who I am holding.

“Constantine is dead!” I call out, my voice harsh with tears. “The Premier is dead!”

As the chant rises over the din of fighting and flames, I lay Constantine’s body down at the edge of the roof and return to Talin’s side. I hoist her up over my shoulder, trying not to further injure her back.