Page 112 of A City of Smoke and Demons
The temperature of the room suddenly dropped; a cool breeze touched Analise’s cheek. She swung around. Near the window, the air rippled and slowly, something took form.
Lira.
Analise gasped.
Her friend looked at her sadly. She was wearing the clothes Analise had seen her in last, the bullet wound so fresh and terrible. Blood seeped from it.
‘Oh, Lira,’ Analise whispered, her voice choked. ‘Lira, I’m so sorry!’
Lira smiled, coming to perch on the bed before Analise. Her eyes shifted to Ezra and then, before Analise could stop her, reached out and lay her hand over Analise’s.
The first thing Analise was aware of was the aching cold. Lira’s hand was like ice, and then, a strange humming filled Analise’s head. She reeled back as a barrage of images hurtled through her mind in black and white. Stripped of colour, she watched as Ezra lay her unconscious body on the bench in Charles’ lab. She watched Charles try and restart her heart— first with his hands, and then with his battery. When it didn't work, she felt Lira’s despair.
Analise gasped in shock. She could not onlyseewhat had happened, she couldhearit.
She could barely believe it when she heard Ezra tell Charles he was full of Analise’s magic, of life. Tears rolled down her cheeks when he demanded the alchemist use him as a human conduit.
Lira’s ghostly hand squeezed hers. The vision faded and as Analise blinked, colour slowly crept back into her sight.
Mute and numb, she turned to Ezra, completely lost for words. She stared at him, touching his chest gently. He stirred but didn’t wake, his hand shifting to rest over hers.
‘Lira,’ Analise said, turning back to the ghost of her friend. ‘I can’t send you on. Asmael told me my power was different … I can’t do it.’ Even if she could, it was the last thing Analise wanted to do. ‘If I hadn't listened to John, this would never have happened.’
She’d failed John, and then she’d killed him, and Lira was dead.
‘Lira,’ she began again, but Lira shook her head. Her face screwed up and then, Analise almost passed out when she heard her friend’s voice in her head.
I am not going anywhere until that arsehole Asmael is put back in his box.
‘I shouldn’t be able to hear you.’
Lira’s expression was full of the same determination she’d worn when she was alive.
Don’t tell Jem I’m still here—not yet.
Analise nodded and Lira disappeared. Head spinning, Analise lay down, tucking her face against the curve of Ezra’s neck. She wanted to cry, but didn’t have the energy.
For the next two days, she dozed on and off, getting up to check on Ezra, looking after his wounds. Strange, dark marks ran from his forearms to his chest, converging over his heart, before they spread out again. They looked like lightning. Analise trailed her fingers over them gently, marvelling at them and at what he’d done for her.
‘That tickles.’
Ezra cleared his throat as Analise stared at him. ‘You’re alright,’ he said, voice raw.
She could only nod and busied herself fetching him a glass of water, holding it for him so he could drink, taking it back when he was done. She couldn’t find the words, didn’t know the words. Would a simple ‘thank you’ be enough? Ezra held out his hand. She took it, kissed it, then dropped the glass and climbed onto the bed, curling up beside him.
‘You tracked me.’
‘I did.’
‘I was hoping you’d work it out.’
Ezra managed a chuckle. ‘You really don’t give me enough credit, you know,’ he murmured.
‘Thank you,’ Analise whispered.
His voice cracked when he spoke. ‘When I saw you there, on the ground, with him sitting there, so calm … I thought you were dead, like …’
‘I would have been, if it wasn’t for you. Lira told me what you did, with the battery,’ she said, shifting so she could see his face. ‘How did you know that would work?’
