Kady Cross - The Girl with the Windup Heart

His mother?

He snapped to attention. He felt awake, but he knew he really wasn’t. This was one more level of the Aether, or maybe a place between the Aether and whatever lay beyond death. He wasn’t certain. What he did know was that it was ivory and white, and that he was standing in the middle of it, and so was his mother.

“What?” he asked.

She gave him that look she’d always used to give him when he didn’t listen to her. He could see the love in her blue eyes even though she was exasperated with him. She looked younger than he remembered, and unlike the Aether she was in full glorious color from her auburn hair to her purple gown, right down to the toes of her crimson shoes. Thankfully he hadn’t inherited her fashion sense.

“I said you have to let go.”

“I did. Didn’t I?” He looked around. “I am dead, right?”

“Not quite,” she replied in a clipped tone. “But you soon will be if you don’t listen to me, young man. You must let go. It’s the only way to stop Garibaldi and save your friends.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Suddenly, she was right in front of him, just inches away. He hadn’t even seen her move. She placed a long, slender hand on the center of his chest. “Yes, you do. You’ve always known. It’s the thing you’ve feared most ever since you first encountered the Aether.”

Griffin shuddered as understanding dawned. She meant that he had to let go of his control. Ever since he’d first learned about the Aether and what it was to him, he’d been certain that if he lost control of the Aether it would destroy him. Not only that, but that he might have the power to destroy possibly all of London if he let the Aether in.

“What you’re asking of me is suicide,” he said. “Not just that, but you’re telling me to kill my friends.”

She smiled patiently at him. “Send them home, Griffin. You don’t need them here to draw strength from them. They risked their lives for you. The least you can do for them is fight to live.” Her smile faded. “If you don’t do this—if you don’t let go of that fear and give in to your power—Leonardo will kill them, and he won’t be quick or kind about it. And he won’t stop with your friends. He’ll destroy the living world, Griffin, and make himself King of the Dead. He won’t stop until he is a god.”

The awful truth of her words sank deep into his bones. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

His mother lifted her hand to his cheek and patted it. “I know you can. You can do anything you set your mind to. You just have to let go.”

So she kept saying. “All right.”

Her smile was dazzling. “So, wake up.”

Griffin opened his eyes to find Finley hovering over him sobbing. It was heart-wrenching.

“Fin.”

The sobs stopped. Her big honey-colored eyes widened as they focused wetly on his face. “Griffin? You’re alive?”

“For the time being.”

“Thank God.” This was said by Sheppard, who stood over the pair of them.

Griffin looked at Finley. “I saw my mother.”

She raised her brows. “You did?”

He nodded. “She told me what I need to do. Help me to my feet.”

His darling girl picked him up as though he weighed next to nothing. At one time it would have embarrassed him, now he was grateful for her strength. A quick glance confirmed that Garibaldi was still held by the spiritualists, but they looked as though their ability to hold him was weakening. Sam still beat on him with the bat, but the injuries weren’t lasting. The Machinist simply had too much power—power he had taken from Griffin.

“You have to leave,” he told Finley. “Get Ipsley to tell Emily to wake you and Sam up.”

She shook her head. The front of her shirt, right down to the edge of her steel corset was wet with tears. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“You have to.”

“No.”

He swore, and pulled away from her. It took every ounce of strength he had to stand on his own two feet. “Listen to me. I have a plan.” It wasn’t much of one, but it was all he had. “You can’t be here when I use the Aether against Garibaldi. It could kill you.”

“What about you?”

He had no bloody idea. “I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced. “No. There has to be another way.”

Good God, but she was the most stubborn of females. She was going to force his hand.

Griffin staggered away from her, toward the spiritualists and Garibaldi. “Sam, stop.” His friend did. He was much more rational than Finley, Griffin thought. “Ipsley, let Garibaldi go.”

“Griffin!” Finley cried.

He glanced at her. “Trust me.” And then, “Ipsley, when I tell you to, I want you to tell Emily to wake Sam and Finley up. You do that and then you and your friends get out of here, all right?”

“Don’t do it!” Finley commanded.

Griffin kept his gaze focused on Ipsley. “All right?”

The gingery young man nodded. He was little more than transparent in this realm, a fact that Griffin would like to study under different circumstances. “Good. Now, let Garibaldi go.”

“Griff, are you mad?” Sam demanded.

Griffin smiled at him. “You can keep hitting him if you like.” That seemed to appease his old friend.

The mediums released each other’s hands, which broke the circle that bound Garibaldi. Griffin’s heart pounded hard in his chest as his enemy drifted toward the floor. He reached out for the Aether with that part of him deep inside that was connected and felt a tiny spark. A tingle in his fingertips and toes. Joy spread through his veins. He could feel the Aether. It hadn’t left him.

Let go. That’s what his mother had told him to do. All right. Instead of trying to command and control the Aether, he imagined opening a tiny door inside his soul and letting the Aether in—like opening a window to a summer breeze. Warmth blossomed in his chest.

“Griffin.” It was a whisper, but he still heard it. It was Finley, and he knew why she sounded so shocked. With that warmth he could feel life seeping back into his body. He could feel it burning in his eyes, and knew that she could see it.

Garibaldi saw it, too. “No, you don’t.” He threw a ball of energy at him. Griffin lurched out of the way, and almost fell. Another whisked past his head.

“Stand still,” The Machinist growled. Griffin would have chuckled if he wasn’t trying to stay alive.

Another ball came at him. He tried to dodge but his feet refused to move. He was still so weak from lack of food and water on top of everything else, that he couldn’t move fast enough. The ball struck him in the center of his chest, knocking him off his feet.

Finley shouted, but it wasn’t the scream of a hysterical woman. It was the cry of a warrior. She rushed toward Garibaldi.

“Sam!” Griffin shouted, struggling to his feet. His heart was pounding, blood racing. Underneath his fear for Finley he could feel his strength returning. His friend turned around at his shout and caught Finley in midstride, picking her up as if she were a child and holding her in the iron band of his arms so she couldn’t risk her fool neck.

Griffin stood and faced Garibaldi. “That felt good.”

The villain threw another ball and then another. Griffin didn’t dodge this time, and he didn’t fall down either. He let each sphere hit him and absorbed the energy into himself. It felt good. By the time Garibaldi caught on, Griffin felt almost hopeful.

“What are you?” Garibaldi demanded with a scowl. The Machinist held out his arms. Aetheric energy danced along his skin like electricity. What was left of the house began to tremble once more. God only knew what he was calling forth this time. If Griffin didn’t act now he might not get another shot.

He looked at Sam and then at Finley. She looked terrified as their gazes locked. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and kept his attention on her as he stretched out his own arms. The crackle started at his fingers and shot up each arm to his shoulder. Then, he felt it snake up his legs, pooling somewhere behind his stomach. It was scary as hell but he didn’t try to stop it, even though every instinct demanded he do just that.

The house shook harder. Bits of ceiling fell down around him as books toppled and furniture collapsed. Was this from him or Garibaldi? He couldn’t tell. The Machinist floated off the floor, his eyes glowing blue, sparks dancing on his skin. “Say goodbye to everyone you love, Griffin King.” His voice echoed ominously.

Griffin only smiled. Damn, but this was incredible. It felt as though his skin were dancing. He could feel the universe in his head, hear the flapping of angels’ wings roaring in his ears, and still the Aether came to him, filled him. He could feel his soul expanding, feel the pressure building as he let the energy rush in. He felt like a rag doll about to come apart at the seams.

He looked at Finley again. He couldn’t take much more of this. It was too much, and he wanted it too badly. “I love you,” he told her. “Ipsley, now!”

He waited until he heard her shout, saw her start to fade. Only when he knew she was going to make it did he finally give up his control.

He let go.

Finley came back into the world of the living with a scream that threatened to shatter her own eardrums. The last thing she had seen as Griffin tossed her out of the Aether were arcs of lightning sparking all around him as his eyes glowed an intense bright blue.

And then there had been nothing but light. Light that came from inside of Griffin. Light so pure and beautiful and terrible that there was no way he could have survived it.