Page 131 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

Useless.

It’s not within my bones to watch someone take the fall for me.

“She’s sad,” Anya answers, right as I open my mouth. “If I had to guess, because her father will die now. You weren’t supposed to know, you see. That was the deal. So she will proclaim I’m lying, no matter what.”

It’s such a smooth, believable lie. It makes me look like I’m acting out of desperation, not going on the offensive. It could literally save my life. Save mydignity.And yet it’s not worth it, not for a second. I donotlike the feeling of people sacrificing themselves for me.

Jesper releases a high-pitched, incredulous laugh. “Can we kill this bitch yet?”

“A lot of what she says is the truth…” Misery croons. “This feeble excuse for a body cannot allow me to see further. I needmylands,” he growls, like he’s growing impatient. “But we do not need this skin shifter. Dispose of her. I will ruminate more on what happened to the sirens before taking any action.”

“No,” I protest, about to rise to my feet. I don’t know how I’ll stop them, but I can’t sit still, either.

Misery throws a decrepit hand my way, and with it comes a gush of wind as nearby rope slithers over and crawls up me. I scream at the sensation until it wraps around my arms and gags me.

Anya looks at me with a crack of a smile before she faces Jesper. “Well, go on. Stab me, you weird fire prick. Get this over with.”

It happens so fast that I barely notice it as Jesper unsheathes a blade and plunges it within Anya, her body eating the metal until it’s mostly the hilt that sticks out.

I drop to my knees when blood spills out of Anya from her gut and her mouth, trickling down her chin, the woman barely moving in response, hiding her pain with perfection. My grunts are muffled by the rope, screaming through the threads that bind me.

Anya’s eyes trail upward, and unlike my mother’s eyes—full of disappointment and agony as she died—Anya’s seem almost relieved.

Jesper removes the blade, and Anya slowly collapses as the guards let her drop, a glaze in her eyes as she looks at Jesper. She spits blood on his shoes before laughing. “Enjoy your life before Soren reaps your soul, you dumbass.”

She pulls a blade out from somewhere—I cannot see—and slashes at Jesper’s ankle, to which he falls over and cries out in pain, like the mayor’s cousin did back in Moore’s Inn; cowardice carries the shriek.

Blackwell unveils an obsidian blade and slits Anya’s throat, her head slumping as her body ceases all movement.

They begin to strip the black robes she stole, and I thrash in my binds. I stop when I see the three marks on her back that Soren has—Death’s Wing.

Assassins.

My father always told me people who join ranks like those are trained to die, to greet death rather than run.Gods,it doesn’t make it better, but I do I breathe steadier, despite the tears that pour down, glaring at the back of Misery since he can’t feel me, my furious gaze moving to Jesper.Keep yourself together, Jane.There’s a whole new reason now to kill these fuckers. Iwillget revenge for her.

Marissa pushes a woman near Jesper, who begins healing him immediately with the same powers I harbor within me. That healer feels like a traitor.

“Throw her body into the ocean,” Misery orders. “She is not worth anything more than that.”

And like that, they pick up Anya’s lifeless body and carry her away, blood dripping off of her fingers in a trail of red droplets. It’s when her presence is gone that I feel the weight of being incredibly alone here.

The weight offailure.

S O R E N

It’s been three days since I spoke with Liam, and Iloathethis waiting. It’s like dragging jagged knives across my chest, over and over. We’ve been arranging every last detail, obsessing over the possibilities, and scourging the maps of Ashfire that Liam possesses.

As soon as the sun had risen on the second day aboard, we landed on a part of the coast of the Fire Isles, far enough south the fire worshippers won’t be here. Quite a few ships areanchored out in the ocean, the port filled with many people. The terrain is flatter, a permanent mist hovering over us like we’ve been slowly enveloped within another realm.

Misthaven harbor.

My mask is in my hand, and I stare at the small divot where I chipped off Anya’s piece. The sensation of her, even if faint, completely disappeared a few days ago as if it had been ripped out.

And thenJane.

It took my breath away when all I sensed was a heart that I’ve ravaged more times than I can count. And there wasfear. It struck me in the night while the others slept, and I put my mask on to try and understand what happened to her.

Jane had wept for the rest of that night.