Page 71 of Mortal Things

“I’m Rose,” Rose replied.

26

The first light of the universe. The thread that created all threads.

And immediately, I remember what Raven said during my confirmation. Every mortal has a thread of that energy in their soul, a fragment of sacred light.

I close my eyes, but even in the darkness, the world is spinning. I think of the birth of the universe, the earliest atoms that would become the ancestors of all that came after, order somehow emerging against all odds in a dark, eternal chaos, dust into clouds into galaxies into life.

How could I contain that? How could I hold the world in my soul?

“The first light is the most powerful thread of energy in the universe,” Étienne continues, speaking rapidly now, his voice hushed, as if he’s afraid someone might overhear. “It vanished as soon as it was created. It has never reappeared in the world. Until now.” He nods at me. “Do you know how long the gods have been waiting for this thread to emerge again? For you?”

I feel dizzy. “What does that mean?”

“You are the only one of your kind. A mortal carrying a power so ancient that it predates the gods. Every mortal in the world bends toward you as the source of light. You could reshape the universe. You could grant life back to a soul. You could unmake the gods.” He nods at me. “Even the gods that exist today have never seen it.”

You could grant life. A power opposite Raven’s.

And suddenly, I think of the man at Paddington Station, who I’d wanted to revive. I think of that same overwhelming desire to save the boy during my second test, of feeling this every time I’m assigned to take a soul. And then I think of my wish to go to medical school before I became a Harbinger, to become a doctor. I think of Laine’s nickname for me.

Everything in me had pointed toward this, the thread of light running through me, only I hadn’t known it.

All my life, I’d felt like there was something wrong with me, that there was a knot of something strange that made me feel like I don’t belong here, that maybe it was why my mother left me. Is this the reason? Is it because I am powered by a force that I cannot begin to understand?

“I’m not supposed to have this power,” I say. My eyes settle on the winding stone steps we’d come down. I need to get out of here, run away. But to where, I don’t know. “I—shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t exist. I’m a mistake.”

“Rose, listen to me,” Étienne says. His grip tightens on my shoulders. “The power of that thread cannot be unleashed unless you are a Regent. Harbingers have a bond to their patron gods, yes, and are gifted a fragment of their power. But a Regent is the heir to their god, bound to their immortal so that their powers are directly linked. It’s why Raven had claimed you, why he wants you as his Regent. And it’s why Thorn is after your soul.”

If I fail the tests, Thorn claims me as his own. But if I pass, if I become the Regent of Death, Raven will be able to wield the power in my soul.

I meet Étienne’s gaze. His eyes are alight with an urgency that I can’t articulate, fixed on me as if I might disappear.

Raven’s declaration about him comes back to me now. He is in love with you.

I shake my head, refusing to believe it, my mouth opening and then closing. “You should have killed me,” I suddenly blurt out.

He scowls, stricken. “At your test?”

“In the alley!” I shout, pushing him away. A panic is rising fast in me now. “You should have just let me die, let my soul go back into the universe! Why didn’t you stab me to death in that alley?” I think I’m crying now, but the world is spinning, and I can’t bring myself to stop and check.

“Rose,” Étienne says, stepping toward me.

“You should have let me go. Laine should have. But you didn’t—neither of you, because I was just your job! I was her job.”

The reality of it hits my heart like a hammer, and I wince, looking back toward the sweeping view of Paris. Tears blur my vision. All this time, Laine—my reason for seeing joy in the world, the person I’d given up everything for—had never been my friend at all. Another illusion, another lie in my life. The universe is just a tangle of threads, and I’m nothing more than a puppet hanging in the balance.

I can’t. I can’t see anything anymore. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to play this game, I don’t want to live it, I don’t want to be a pawn for the gods. But none of it matters, because whatever turn I try to take, what path I deviate from, I’ll just end up right back where they want me to be. I don’t know how to escape it.

Is this what fate means? A trap you can’t escape?

“Rose,” Étienne repeats, and I try to focus on him. “Rose, look at me.”

Angrily, I throw him off. “You!” I exclaim hoarsely. “Why do you do this? Why pretend to care about me? Why are you torturing me? Making me think you—that you—”

I choke on the words. I can’t even bring myself to say it.

“That I what?” His voice is loud now, too, his eyes alight. “What did I make you think?”