Page 89 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

So then destroy them for doing this to everyone. This isn’t your doing.

I’m breathing rapidly, stopping just near the outline of the trees and underbrush, the ethereal music of the sirens making it seem like I’m hallucinating.

Glancing back at the shanty shows a bunch of guards lying on the ground.Fuck.

Something in that solidifies this for me. Those are myfather’smen.Mypeople, in one way or another. Even ifthey’re just temporarily incapacitated, they’re caught up in the whirlpool of my life.

Why the fuck would I let others sacrifice themselves to protect me like this? I’ll kill myself before Misery has a chance to actually use my body. And I know that if wealltake him on, so many more will die. Especially if Cypress is right, and Misery is Soren’strueweakness.

I can get close, though. Iwillbe close.

He needs me willing, right?

I’m not just some maiden who needs protection. I’m literally the daughter of a revered Zenith, with the skull tattoo on my own chest. This might be unfair, but it is what it is. Misery is hunting me, which means that at some point, wewillclash.

I stare at the damp soil beneath my feet, then at the big leafy plants casting dark shadows without a care in the world.

“My men have someone to think about when they die… I’d like that.”

I smile as tears blur my vision.

At least I have people to think about.

Go. It’s either you, or Soren. He cannot confront Misery, and if Cypress is right, then that god is in this jungle. Soren still has his sister to see. Don’t risk that.

Perhaps I’m an idiot, but the idea of that man dying for me threatens my sanity like nothing else ever has. Him not existing, on my behalf, feels like someone is genuinely ripping a part of my heart out.

I take a single step closer to the jungle, having to push a leaf the size of my arm out of the way, hardly blinking as I peer into the verdant underbrush. I knew how to numb it all in Coalfell, having learned the art of detachment among those coal miners.

I will do it here.

Stepping through the cracks of twigs underneath, I’m reminded why I hate the forests—so many things hide in herethat I can’t see. At least in the streets, I know the nooks and crannies, and that my biggest threat is a human.

Every minute sound out here is so foreign to me, even the damn squirrels scraping their sharp claws on the bark. That’s not even addressing the many weird noises coming from the canopies, or the echoinghootsand animal sounds along the branches.

I’ve never heard so much life yet felt so alone.

My body freezes mid-movement, even my fingers that are stuck in a partial grasp of a branch I was reaching for—there are people up ahead, all silent and looking around. Dressed in leathers, weapons, and cotton tunics.

I immediately recognize Blackwell among them.

Oh thatfucker, I want to rush over there and stab him in the eyes for killing Maryanne.

But there’s a hooded figure among them, who is facing me, and he makes every ounce of my blood run cold. The sound of sirens emanates from that circle-–with absolutely no sirens present—the singing dying down until there’s nothing left but the jungle’s ambiance.

I consider bolting back, calling for Cypress before bringing Dad or Soren into this. At the same time, if there are things Cypress can do that not even Soren or my father can fight, what would challengingMiserybe like for them? What couldhedo?

He’s fucking staring right at me.

I glare at the nearly black void that he creates, as if the sun avoids touching him, those orange circles clearly his eyes.

One by one, the others all turn to face me. Blackwell has a primal look on his ugly face. “Ah, well, she seems to have listened to the siren’s singing.”

I lick my lips, tasting salt and dirt. Bitterness creeps up my throat as if I ate a rotten apple, but I move forward nonetheless.It’s not as terrifying to be upon them as I thought it would be; it just feels like fate.

Like we all knew this would happen.

“I hear you want me,” I state.