Page 81 of The Gods Will Sing Our Song

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ren

Pop, pop, pop.

I startle at the crisp, evenly spaced sounds. I’m nothing but dripping fluid, but suddenly my mouth is dry as bone.

Pop, pop, pop.

The staccato bursts ring through my ears. All along, the commotion outside has been one stew of sound: running, shouting, battering. It changes. High-pitched screams pierce the night. Thundering footsteps change direction. Akira’s shadow flares bright red. People turn and flee.

But not everyone.

Others push forward, toward the gunshots.

Ever since the hospital, I’ve been empty.

I haven’t been afraid.

I haven’t been angry.

I’ve only known my tasks—get Cosette to safety, make sure Violet and Mrs. Aratani and Mama are out of harm’s way, find Kai. Even the tears and snot running down my face haven’t been mine, but the result of the tear gas. The gunshots change everything. It’s like standing beneath the voice of God. It blades through me, wakes me up when I didn’t know I was asleep.

Suddenly, I’m afraid.

Suddenly, I’m angry.

I’ve wanted none of it. None of the rebellion. But if I was caught out here with Cosette, the bullets would still fly. There are no illusions. No fancy fake talk of evacuation or safety measures or self-governance. We’ve said we aren’t the enemy. We’ve said we are Americans. You shoot at the enemy, and they are shooting at us.

Rage spills through me. Kai said I’m a dragon. Maybe he’s right, because I’m desperate to breathe my rage out in fire. They’ve demolished us. Not just now, not just tonight, not just with these damn bullets. But all along. Rounding us up. Dragging us out here. Dumping us behind barbed wire when we’ve committed no crime. I’ve known it, been living it. Hell, they killed my sister.

Hearing gunshots makes me face it, hear it, feel it, know it. Been avoiding trouble for a long time. That stops now.

I run forward.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Violet

The relic cuts into the blue light. It hovers in the air for a single moment and then, like a floating flower finally submerged, sinks into the box. It descends gracefully, slowly, magically. At the same time, a series of bangs punctuates the air. The relic goes gently, even surrounded by chaos. The bangs are mechanical, loud, unrelenting.

The shadow hands gather together. They mount into the air above me. I cower, covering my head with my hands, feeling like, at any moment, they’re going to descend and vaporize me.

Then, suddenly, they disappear. The red light does, too. The glow of Akira’s lanterns returns, along with the tranquil sounds of the koi splashing in the basin and the crane’s wings flapping through the air. It’s like I’m sheltered, even as the terrible, violent sounds penetrate from outside.

I rush to the window and look out. Akira’s shadow over the camp—it’s receding. The red spikes of lightning become smaller and smaller.

“Akira! Wake up!” I hurry to his side and shake his arm. He blinks at me. “I’ve given you an offering.”

Akira’s hand comes up to his face; then he rushes to the mirror, Oda dropping out of the way. I watch as the crack ringing his face begins to fill with new, radiant flesh. Then it’s gone. Akira dashes to the box. The relic I made floats up to the top, where it gently bobs. He plucks it up. “You made this.”

“I did. It worked, right? Please tell me it worked.”

Akira stares at it, and when he looks at me, his eyes are misty with tears. For an immortal who claims not to know human emotions, he suddenly seems as mortal as me, as possessed by grief, hope, and everything in between. “You’ve given me a most astounding offering, clever mortal girl. I think…I think if I just add this, it shall be enough. I shall be free.”

Slowly, as though he almost doesn’t dare to hope, he removes Ren’s fox from around his neck. He holds it over the box with the icon I made. Then he drops them inside.

A zing runs through me.