Meg was covered up under a tent awning. To Alden's relief, it wasn't really raining—just a few drops for now. The clouds certainly looked ominous, but he figured they'd be done before a real storm kicked up. There were onlookers everywhere, as soldiers and passersby alike stopped to watch the girl awaken.
Everyone wanted a glimpse of Grey-eyes. Everybody wanted to see the goddess. Alden could hear them whispering, waiting, anticipating. If he was being honest, he was excited to see her again too. She'd saved his life more than once, and he wanted the chance to thank her.
The Scrap in Meg's hand disintegrated completely. She choked up. Her eyes fluttered open in panic.
Alden took her hand and squeezed tight. "Not long now," he murmured.
Julian nodded, bored. Alden figured he'd seen so many awakenings by now, this was just another on the pile. Alden had watched a couple himself, but… this was his little sister. No matter what, he was still going to feel nervous. The process wasn't pleasant, especially when she took longer to show up.
Meg made an awful gasping sound, and then Grey-eyes appeared, right next to them, exactly as Alden expected. She seemed incredibly tired, her eyes practically closed, hair messier than usual, clothes unkempt, but she still started to move as soon as she arrived… until she saw who had read the Scrap.
She stumbled backward.
"No…" she gasped.
"What?" asked Alden, utterly confused. Julian dropped the flask he'd just taken out. It fell into the mud with a soft slap of sound, completely incongruous with everything happening in front of them. The crowd nearby froze. Everything was suddenly silent. Only the sound of raindrops as they picked up speed, the gasping of Meg on the ground, and Grey-eyes' confused voice.
"No," said Grey-eyes again. "No, no, no." She shook her head, thick brown hair flying wildly. "Please, no."
Meg's hand tightened on Alden's arm. He dove for Grey-eyes and grabbed her hand.
"Help her!" he cried.
"I didn't want this!" said Grey-eyes, wrenching free of his grasp. "I didn't want any of this!"
"What the fuck…" murmured Julian, taking a step back, squelching through the mud as the rain picked up.
"What are you talking about?" asked Alden. Meg was getting worse by the second, and the only person who could save her was… backing away.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Grey-eyes didn't answer. She just kept repeating the same word, over and over under her breath, tears filling her eyes.
"Somebody help!" Alden cried, his voice wrenched from his throat involuntarily.
A man in uniform with a medic bag burst through the crowd and rushed to Meg's side, but she was still choking and gasping. He dropped to the ground and started performing CPR, and that finally seemed to snap Grey-eyes out of her stupor.
"No!" she cried, rushing forward. "That won't do anything!"
The medic tried to push her away, obviously not understanding who she was. Rage flashed in her eyes, and they turned bright red. She took a single step forward, and one arm slammed outward.
Grey-eyes shoved him—hard.
People in the crowd scattered as the medic flew fifteen feet into the air and over the top of the next tent over. Grey-eyes ignored the sudden commotion. She fell to Meg's side and began murmuring as fast as she could, but something was wrong.
Something was very wrong.
Meg's mouth murmured the words, just as Alden expected, but her eyes never opened. Grey-eyes seemed to be repeating phrases, if he could hear it correctly. It should have been over by now, but it wasn't, and her voice was getting more panicked with every passing second.
"...Meg?" said Grey-eyes finally, her voice thick with emotion.
"Meg?" repeated Alden, choking up.
"No, no, no…"
Alden turned around, looking for the medic. He'd made it back, muddy by unharmed, and rushed to Meg's side again. In an instant, he was on his radio, as the rain began to pour down in earnest now.
"This is Stevens. Prep medical for asphyxiation. We're coming in right now." He grabbed the edges of the sheet Meg lay on. "Grab the other half, right now."
Julian did, when both Alden and Grey-eyes seemed stock-still and unable to move. Together, Julian and the medic rushed Meg across the camp to the medical tents, where a team was already waiting with oxygen masks. Alden followed, and at his side, he could feel a rushing movement, and saw footprints appearing in the mud as they ran—Grey-eyes was there, invisible, following their every movement.
Off in the distance, while Alden and Grey-eyes watched Meg strapped in and the medics working to restore oxygen to her brain, another person had just started to read from their own copy of a Scrap—another piece of the Grimoire which had just nearly claimed the life of Margaret Bensen.
----------------------------------------
"Somebody just called it in," said Felix, setting down his phone. "They're dying."
"Huh?" asked the one-armed woman, glancing up from her rifle, a burst of dust accompanying the movement. The library was full of dust, caked in it, smothered by it.
"People trying to awaken. They read from whatever piece of that damned book they've got and they just die. Grey-eyes isn't coming to save them anymore."
"When did that happen?" asked the other guard in their small group of four.
Felix shrugged. "Within the last thirty minutes. We've already heard about three—two in the camp and one way out in Portland." He glanced across the room to their leader, who was seated on a wooden bench and gazing up at the rain through the upper turret windows. "You hear that?"
Brian nodded. "I heard."
"What do you think?"
He didn't answer. In his mind, the only thing that mattered was Natalie. She was out there somewhere, in the rain-swept forest, coming back to meet him. He could feel it. She'd know exactly where to go. She'd come to find him, and they could share in the victory together. Grey-eyes had given up on them, and so magic would stop spreading. All that remained was to clean up the rest.
For the first time in a very, very long time… Brian smiled.