Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
I turn and look at the thick glass. At Jasina, who isn’t paying any attention to me, but talking to Gemna or whoever that other girl is.
“It’s your father’s fault, Finn. It’s entirely his fault that we are using up Little Sisters like this. If he had just… let us do it our way—”
I whirl back around. “Your way?” I scoff. Thoroughly disgusted. “If you had your way, Mother, it would be Clara up there in that circle next to Gemna. It would be Haryet as well. He sent them through the doors so you couldn’t have them.”
My mother’s face softens and her eyes go… I dunno. Weepy, or something. Like she’s sad. “It has to be done, my son. It must. If your father had agreed to our plan, he would still be alive today. And perhaps Haryet, and Clara, and Gemna would all survive the opening of the door? You don’t know. And the reason you don’t know, and Clara is now gone, is because your father was selfish.”
Would still be alive today?
Did she really just say that?
I don’t even have the ability to respond I’m so stunned.
She did it.
She murdered him.
Or, at the very least, she sanctioned it.
“Finn? Did you hear me?”
“Of course I fuckin’ heard you, Mother! Just… give me a moment, OK?”
My mother puts up her hands and this gesture is obscenely ceremonial-looking because of the robes she’s wearing. She takes several steps back. “We don’t have much time, but of course, you must process.”
I turn a little, not looking at anything in particular, just thinking. I picture myself as a small boy in our family home behind the Extraction Tower. Our cozy, brightly lit, neutrally decorated six-room house. I picture myself standing between my mother and father. My mother, smiling down at me with her pretty face and warm smile. Extending her hand to me, along with her invitation. Come, Finn! Join us as we begin anew.
My father standing opposite, his face stern like it was in the Looking Glass room. Don’t interfere with anything that is happening below the Tower District. Just get on the train, take it down the line, and cut all ties with the gods by doing what we discussed.
I picture myself as a teenager taking Clara Birch to her gala in her second year of Pledge. Her favorite memory with me. Clara. Good, honest, loyal Clara. Poised, proper, and polite Clara.
I thought for sure she was dead. But then a miracle. I see her and that man she was kissing last night. Somewhere, through the Looking Glass, she is alive. I know this now. It’s a fact, not a guess. And if I cross over, I could find her.
But as I’m thinking this, I turn a little more and my gaze wanders to Jasina Bell on the other side of the massive glass wall. She’s still talking. Not to me. I’m not even sure she knows I’m here. She’s talking to Gemna, who, now that I look closer, I think is screaming. She’s talking to the other girl, too.
Jasina. The girl who shows up with not just questions, but answers. The girl who takes notes. The girl who wants to make history. The girl with a plan.
She’s got a plan.
I don’t know what it is, but tying her to a circle that is clearly meant to drain the spark out of her in order to power a portal to another world isn’t enough to make her give up. She is plotting something. She’s always plotting something.
And she left me to die.
They all left me to die, actually. I’m not even supposed to be here. I’m sure they thought I’d sleep right through their secret ritual under the Tower District.
But that’s neither here nor there.
Jasina is the one who matters now. She took my father’s notes and left me to die.
In my sleep.
So she could… what? Take my job assignment? Did she really think she could just replace me in this whole scheme? I’m the Extraction Master, not her.
It’s like… next-level balls. On someone who doesn’t even have balls.
It’s audacious. It’s bold. It’s… brave.
Stupid, as well. But there’s something to be said for dodgy escape schemes.
And as I’m thinking all this, cyan-blue light begins to seep out of Jasina and Gemna. Gathering around them like a cyclone wind.
I turn to my mother and smile. “What do you need me to do?”
Her relief is so immediate, it comes out as a breath of air the color of spark.
I’ve never seen my mother display spark. It never even occurred to me that once upon a time, she was a Spark Maiden.
But of course she was.
She’s the Extraction Matron.
And there is only one way to become a Matron. Ya gotta be a Maiden first.
“You don’t have to do anything, my son.” My mother lets out another breath, and again, it’s spark. It swirls around in the air between us. Then she steps forward, making it disperse as she passes through it. I am fascinated as the little particles glitter in the air like stardust, but no one else seems to notice.