Edge of the Falls (After the Fall) (24 page)

I sigh. "Leave it alone, Merc. I'm not going to be with Arjun. Life in the City is my next best option."

"Stupid girl."

I glare at him, but it is hard to be angry with someone who speaks with such exasperated affection. He takes my hand, squeezing it lightly.

"Don't tell him," I say, into the sudden silence. Mistress and Berg's arguing have died down. They'll be here soon. I can see the conflict in his eyes. My voice is a whisper, as I beg, “Please don’t tell Arjun.”

He nods, clenches my hand in his. "Don't leave me?"

It is the first hint of fear, and I lean my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes. I do not know how this will go—and I do not want to see a friend die. Mistress had been clear, in the kitchen, how dangerous this would be. Both of us know he could just as easily die as be cured—or the serum could fail and he could remain a ban-wolf. I want to run from the room, run from the Manor, wait in the darkness with Arjun.

But I will not abandon Merc.

Mistress and Berg walk in--she, trembling with excitement, he, glaring. Glass clinks together and I lick my lips, nerves swamping me. "What are you going to do?" I ask.

"It's simple, really," Mistress says. She's rifling through a drawer, and pulls a large syringe out. The needle is hidden by plastic, but I can see it, gleaming dully in the electri light—her lab and the greenhouse are the only places in the manor we use electri lights. "We're going to inject the serum in his bloodstream. It should initiate a reversal as it works through his system. If his body rejects it--" she pauses, glances at Merc.

"If his system rejects it," Berg says coldly, "he could bleed out or go crazy. Maybe both. He'll need to be restrained."

"Scared, little boy?" Merc says, his lazy smile returning.

"Hardly," Berg snaps, furious.

Merc's head cocks as he studies Berg, and then his eyes come to me. "You do know you can do better, don't you, Sabah?"

I squeeze his hand, glaring, "Enough, Merc. Just let them put you in the restraints."

It takes a ridiculously short amount of time for them to finish preparations. The Mistress is waiting impatiently before Berg has finished securing Merc. The syringe of thick gray serum sits on a steel tray, waiting.

Berg steps back, glaring. The Mistress touches his shoulder. "You don't have to stay, Berg."

"I said I would," he spits, looking away.

Merc laughs in his restraints, "Don't do me any favors, boy."

"Shut up, Merc," I grind out. He looks at me, and the amusement slips. Suddenly his fear is almost tangible under hisfaçade, and my breath catches. Wordless, I go to him, clenching his hand in mine. "Ready?" I ask.

He nods. There is a sudden sharp smell—antiseptic—and then a low whine, as the long, thick needle finds his vein. His grip tightens on my hand, and I feel the bones grinding together, as the Mistress injects the serum.

And then we wait.

**

For hours, nothing happens. I grow restless—shifting in my seat next to Merc. He's quiet, asleep.

"You care for him," Berg says, behind me. It is the first thing he’s said to anyone since the injection.

I withdraw my hand from Merc's grasp, flexing as blood rushes through my fingers. "He's a friend, Berg. Nothing more," I tell him.

"But there is one, who is more. Is it the one I fought?”

It isn't a question, but it irritates me nonetheless. Arjun is
mine
—and Berg is hardly in a position to be throwing stones. I twist to glare at him. "Do we have to do this? I'm going to the City—I'm choosing you. Just let it go. I don’t ask about
her.
"

He seems startled, but doesn't push.

Merc makes a soft noise on the table, and I look back at him. The change is subtle—if I had not reached to push his hair from his face, I would not notice it.

Long brown fur comes away in a clump.

I stare at it, uncomprehending, before giving a questioning look to Berg and the Mistress.

An eerie scream, so shrill it makes my teeth hurt, rends the air. Merc's eyes are open, bulging, staring blindly at the ceiling as he arches against the restraints. Blood fills his mouth, choking off his scream in a terrible gurgle.

"Mistress," I shout, but there is no need—she's there, turning his head. The blood pours out, splattering the floor, staining my feet. It’s burning hot, splashing against my calves. There is a soft clatter, and I look closer—gleaming sharp teeth.

He screams again, an animal sound of pain and confusion. I hear a scream in the distance, musical and familiar.
Arjun.

A whole body shudder racks his frame, and the scream dies off in a gurgle of pain. His eyes squeeze shut and I hear him say my name; see the shape of it on his bloody lips.

I stumble closer, touch Merc's shoulder, take his hand. "I'm here," I whisper. "It's almost over."

He whimpers, his whole body relaxing as the pain eases for a moment. And then it sweeps back, and I can
see
the reversal—his ears sinking into his head, the fur falling away. Bone white claws fall to the floor with a deadly rattle, his too long limbs seeming to shift and contort. It's painful to watch, and I want desperately to turn away. The only thing that does not change is his eyes. Frantic, trusting, they stay on mine, pleading. And I step closer, force a smile past the urge to throw up. "I'm here," I murmur, reassuring him.

Time passes, a blur of pain and blood. He throws up, so many times I lose count. My dress is soaked with sweat—mine—and the blood that splashes from him to me. At some point, Berg tries to get me to leave. It makes Merc frantic, but he is so wrapped in pain that his protest is lost in an unintelligible whimper.

“Just go eat.” Berg pleads, “He’s through the worst of it, and you’ll do him no good if you’re dead on your feet.”

I shake my head, stubborn. “Not until it’s over,” I slur, pushing Berg away. Merc’s eyes close in relief as I take his hand again. For a few minutes, he is able to relax, the pain easing. It gives us all a chance to breathe. And then his muscles spasm again, changing, shifting. And the cycle of pain begins again.

“I don’t like it,” Berg says.

I swallow the bread I’m chewing and glare at him. “I don’t give a damn,” I snap. “You’re not going.”

I know I should gentle my tone—the hurt look in Berg’s eyes tells me so—but after the past three days, I am too tired, and too tense. I want Berg to shut up. I want this to be over.

Merc laughs hoarsely. “I wouldn’t argue with her, Berg.”

I spare him a glance. Berg has given him a pair of trousers that hang loosely on his hips and a well-worn shirt that is too tight in the shoulders.

In some ways, Merc is still the same—his lazy slouch as he eats, his eyes half-lidded as he watches us. The long hair that flops into his eyes is the same color as his fur, although the rough texture has smoothed and thinned somewhat. But other things are different: his mouth is flat and even, generous lips curving in a smirk that is both odd and familiar. His hands seem to surprise him—I see him pause for a fraction too long when reaching for his water, staring at them as if they belong to someone else. The claws are gone. Ears that pricked in response to every sound have faded, been reabsorbed into his skull.

If I had not met him before today, I would not know he had once been a ban-wolf.

“I don’t need
your
opinion, thanks,” Berg says stiffly. “I know her better than you could ever hope to.”

Merc gives him a quizzical look, and then grins at me. “I see why you’d pick
this
one. His sunny disposition puts all others to shame.”

I choke on the eggs I’ve just put in my mouth and Berg jerks to his feet. “You bastard,” he snarls.

Merc’s eyes glint, and I put a hand on his arm. “Stop pushing him,” I order. He gives me a mocking smile, but relaxes into his chair. “Berg,” I say, turning to him, “can you check on the Mistress?”

He glares but doesn’t say anything as he rises from the table and stalks from the room.

I let a sigh out. My head is pounding, and every inch of me aches. The past three days seem to have lasted an eternity. Merc is quiet, but I can feel his eyes boring into me, so heavy they make my hands shake.

"What?" I finally snap, looking at him.

"We'll leave today," he says gently. It's true. I've known it’s coming—we have already kept Arjun and Merc here longer than is safe for either of them. Arjun has been hiding in almost plain sight for the past three days, while Merc worked through the reversal. Every time I see Keepers in the distance, my heart stops.

But Merc needed the time to recover. The serum was devastating, but successful.

"I know," I say.

He sighs, and looks away, leaning forward to steal a piece of sausage from my plate. I would protest, but the truth is I don't have the energy—or desire. His blunt reminder has made my mouth go dry and I push my plate at him.

"You need to unpack your bag,” he says, and it is so out of place that I actually look at him. It's strange, to stare at him and see the eyes of a ban-wolf staring at me from the face of a human. I realize that I have been unconsciously avoiding it.

He grins at me, and I roll my eyes. "I'll get right on that, Merc."

The Mistress hurries into the kitchen, a waterproof bag hanging heavy from her hand. Berg follows reluctantly.

They have been busy these past three days. When it became apparent that Berg's serum would work, Mistress went into a flurry of preparation, making as many vials of it as humanly possible in the window of time they had.

"The instructions are in here," she says, handing Merc the bag. She hesitates, and Merc smiles at her, lazy and curious. "Tell them I'm sorry,” she blurts. "It wasn't my idea—or intention. I know that doesn't make it forgivable, but I
am
sorry."

Anger flits across Merc's face so quickly that no one notices but me.

Gwen enters the kitchen, and he straightens. I hide my grin; I wonder if he even realizes it. She smiles, coming to stand in front of him. She checks his pulse and listens to his breathing, and finally nods. "I'm not sure where you came from, but you'll do just fine,” she says, shooting an irritated look at the Mistress.

I feel a pang—I wish we could tell Gwen the truth about our unorthodox guest. But the Mistress firmly forbids it, and I am skating on thin ice as it is.

“With the new supply of starrbriars, I’ll be able to make more of the serum,” she says, and Merc nods.

“We’ll be back for it.” He glances at me, waiting, and I take a deep breath.

The Mistress looks at me, and something like sorrow and understanding fills her eyes. "Take your time, Sabah."

Berg growls and Merc smiles, a grimace of bared teeth—despite the reversal, much of the wolf remains.

I glare at Berg and tug Merc out of the kitchen. A fight between them, after three days of uneasy truce, seems like something we should avoid.

The air is crisp, and bracing. An eerie scream comes from the darkness to hit me like a fist in the gut. We both pause, looking around. "It'd be useful to have my vision, still," Merc says, peering into the blackness.

I make a noise of agreement. The walk to the river bend is quick and quiet—both of us are absorbed in our own thoughts. Arjun is sitting on a rock and he stands slowly as we approach. It is the first time he has seen Merc since the change, and I see the shock in his eyes as he takes in his friend.

It is Merc, of course, who breaks the silence. “Stop staring. We need to get moving.”

Arjun’s eyes dart to me, and he nods. Merc wraps me in a hug, and murmurs in my ear, “Think, sweetheart—don’t forget to think about
what
was said.”

I don’t want to—but there is no way to say that, so I nod and he releases me.

“I’ll wait for you,” he tells Arjun, gesturing vaguely at the darkness.

We’re both quiet after Merc leaves. The air is stinging, and it is suddenly impossible to breathe—this is the last time I will ever see him.

He’s watching me, his golden eyes roving my face, as if committing it to memory. “You’ll be careful,” I say, my voice shaking.

He nods, and opens his arms. I’m not aware of moving, but they close around me, anchoring me. I choke down my emotions, and hear him murmur, “Be safe, Sabah. Promise me you’ll be safe.”

I nod, and he lifts my head up. He’s shaking; his hands actually tremble on my neck. The kiss is so soft, so gentle. I memorize the feel of his lips, the feel of his long, strong body pressed against me, the tickle of his hair as the wind brushes it along my skin. The taste of him, his smell—everything. Too soon, he’s pulling away. It’s not enough—the memories I have aren’t enough for a lifetime. I want to scream as he turns me.

“Go inside,” he forces out and I bolt. I can feel his eyes on me, tracking my movements to the Manor.

I’m inside when my tears begin to fall. I can almost feel my heart shattering—an echoing crack that drowns out everything. I collapse in the kitchen, curling on my side as my pain and grief overwhelm me. Distantly, I hear Kaida screaming my name, Gwen’s alarm. I feel Berg lifting me up and carrying me away.

I’m listening, above their voices and the sound of my heart breaking, for a musical scream. A cry of grief that echoes my own.

But it never comes.

The City.

"You have to get up."

Kaida's voice is firm, and I pry my eyes open to glare at her. "I don't want to."

"You still have to," she says imperiously, tapping her foot. "Mistress has had us cleaning all day—she's making an announcement at last meal, and she wants you there."

I rub my eyes, and sit up. How long has it been?

"A week," she says, looking away. I don’t realize I had voiced the question until she answers it.

I wonder where Arjun is—has he made it to his City? The thought of him makes me want to collapse back on my bed, but there is a determination in Kaida's eyes that tells me she'll throw a fit if I even try. I push my blankets back, and stretch. "What time is it?"