Page 42 of A Fate Everlasting

Ruby tapped her fingers against her knee. “You’re willing to bet everything on this?” I thought of the numbers flashing on my slate.

-18

Atruedeath sentence in all but name. I thought of the Rift yawning open like a waiting grave, and of Verrine. Then of my mother’s name, erased from every archive, erased from this world, as though she had never existed at all.

“Yes.”

Something flickered behind Ruby’s eyes, uncertain, but she only nodded, her expression smoothing into something careful.

“Okay,” she murmured. “Good luck.”

An hour later, I had agreed to meet Dorian. I’d packed hardly anything into the small backpack I got for my birthday last year, just some fresh t-shirts, underwear, my slate, water bottle, and Advil. Would I even need water when I was dead? Would Ineed painkillers? I decided to throw on my gray school jumper. The skirt wouldn’t keep me warm.

I made my way along the cloister to the clock tower. I climbed the steps silently, and I was abruptly reminded of the ridiculous hazing I had experienced that first night. I scowled, a burning hatred for Dorian growing in my chest. I didn’t even hear the second set of footsteps above until he spoke.

“This is a mistake, Dorian.” Hugo’s voice broke through the roar of the wind. “I won’t just look after the body. I am coming with you.”

“You hardly know the girl,” Dorian’s voice was a snarl. “Besides, another body will just slow us down. There’s only one resurrection card, and we’re counting on it for Davenant. My mother will deal with me.” There was a bitterness in his tone, then.

“Ever the hero,” Hugo spat. Despite the death that awaited me, I couldn’t help but feel the warmth of a smile spreading across my cheeks. Hugo wanted to come with us, for me.

“They’ll trace the residue,” Dorian continued. “My signature’s all over them. Ihaveto go.” Feet shuffled overhead, and a moment later, something slammed hard against the wall, shifting the bricks to rubble. It was obvious that Hugo wasn’t used to being told ‘no.’

Hugo’s hands softened around Dorian’s neck as he spotted me. He crossed the tower in two strides. His hands raked through my hair with concern, tucking a strand behind my ear. “You can’t do this alone.” His tone was firm, his back to the ledge and the steep drop-off below, blocking me from the gap in the railing.

This was sweet. This was also…weird.Hugo and I didn’t know each other that well.

“I’m not alone,” I smiled weakly. Dorian wasn’t my first choice for company, but his resurrectionwas a guarantee.

“Right,” Dorian said, already moving on. “I’ve called you to the clock tower because my mother is practiced in this sort of resurrection. I borrowed sage from Esmerelda’s stores so the ghosts have dispersed,temporarily. We don’t have long.”

“Understood.” Hugo nodded.

“Stop.” I grabbed Hugo’s arm, my nails digging into his sleeve, aware of how close he was to the gap in the railing we had fallen through only a few nights ago. “You cannot come. There is only one resurrection card.”

“I don’t care.”

“Hugo, you will die.”

There was a bittersweet softness to his words. “So will you.”

“Hugo—” My voice barely left my throat before he stepped back, teetering near the edge. He was still smiling, too calm and too certain. The glow of the moon bathed his golden skin in a spectral light, shadows carving hollows beneath his cheekbones.

My mind could not process what was happening. I turned to Dorian, panicked. “Do something!” I shouted.

Dorian smirked, like it was all a joke to him. I lunged for Hugo, and my fingers clawed into his wrist. I drove my heels in but I was not strong enough to hold him.No. No, no, no.

“Don’t,” I choked. “You don’t have to do this.”

His other hand curled around mine, peeling my fingers loose gently. His eyes were glistening, his throat bobbed as though straining against his own impulse. “I have to do this,” he whispered, the words raw. “From the moment I saw you, something inside me shifted. I don’t know why, but if I let you fall alone, it feels like the world itself snaps in half.”

A pulse of silver light flickered over his sternum, so faint I thought I’d imagined it, threading toward me like a silk cord before vanishing. My own pendant throbbed in answer.

He was already shifting his weight, already letting go. My nails dug into his skin again, useless, helpless, because he hadalready made his choice. I clawed trying to throw my weight back to pull him toward me instead of the abyss behind him.

“Please!” My voice broke. “You don’t have to do this.” We hardly know each other. We’re nothing more than strangers.

“I’ll see you again.After.” His fingers traced over my knuckles, then, he pushed backward. It wasn’t violent, wasn’t desperate. He dropped easily, the fabric of his uniform rippling in the crepuscular light, until the darkness swallowed him.

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