Page 96 of Death and Do-Overs

We’d been separate people for one measly day, yet Greta had evolved lightyears ahead of me in magical ability. She’d effortlessly created additional copies, then without waiting for their deaths, reabsorbed them.

Taking advantage of the first break in conversation, I asked Greta, “How’d you do it?”

I realized after the words left my lips that I hadn’t specified what subjectitreferred to, but I could see the recognition in the slight twitch of her cheek. She knew exactly what I meant.

“Same circumstances as always,” Greta said.

Intense emotion.

“With a twist,” Greta said. “I was about to lose my head.”

“That makes it sound like you raised your voice in anger.” Imogen stopped pacing and turned to me. “The alchemist froze me. He swung his…machete? I don’t remember the exact weapon. Hmm.”

The weapon type was unimportant.

“Butcher knife? Hand ax?” Imogen twisted her lips and looked up at the ceiling. After a moment, she shrugged. “He was about to….”

Imogen swiped a finger through the air in front of her neck, made a swoosh sound, and frowned.

“Just like what happened to Nie,” Greta said, stiffening in her seat as if only just realizing the connection.

This was helpful, even if we were losing track of what I’d asked. I offered the obvious next question. “Was this alchemist the person who killed Nie?”

“No,” Imogen said. “It wasn’t in his memories. But he was hecka feisty. I didn’t spend too long in there so I didn’t get a lot, but I would definitely have caught the whole murdering-Nie bit.”

“Two decapitations of the same person isn’t coincidence,” Levi said.

It was unlikely for the events to be unrelated.

I said to Greta, “You saw the blade coming for your throat.”

“I did, and I understood what I had to do,” Greta said. “Instinct.”

An instinct that no Marnie had managed before her. Had our circumstances switched, would I have instinctively created two Marnies to save my own life? I wasn’t so sure. Reintegrating into one was something Greta and her clones had accepted without hesitation. I couldn’t do it.

She was different. Stronger.

I watched Greta gesture to Imogen, who tossed her what appeared to be a mostly-empty candy bag.

Then I watched with horror as Greta pulled out a piece of candy corn, looked me in the eye, and slipped it between her lips.

Why?

“I saw the whole thing in Alden’s—that’s the dead alchemist guy’s name—memories, when I was inside of him,” Imogen said.

I cringed inwardly at her description of her powers. I would never get used to her saying that.

I cringed outwardly as I watched Greta chew and swallow the waxy candy.

We had the same taste buds. I hated candy corn, so she did, too. I didn’t understand.

“You said someone else killed him,” I said to Imogen.

“Yep. He got hit in the neck with a dart and died immediately.”

“Did you see who shot the dart?” Levi asked.

“No,” Greta said.

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