Annabeth Neverending (27 page)

At least he isn’t totally clueless. And I want him to pay. I need to get my limbs moving, so I can aid C. J. in Gabriel’s destruction. I’m not generally a vindictive person, but Gabriel brought it on himself. He murdered Mrs. Lansing, after all…and of course…

He killed me.

I grunt and groan as I try my hardest to achieve a full range of motion in my arms, but every limb still feels leaden. I have no time to waste. Gabriel may have black magic at his disposal, but The Siege is a force of nature. I want to make sure there’s enough left for me to defeat.

I drag myself along on the slick, wet ground, slowly pulling myself ahead toward C. J. and Gabriel. My bare hands grip roots, rocks, anything stable to use as leverage: my anger at Kha
—
at Gabriel
—
fuels an inferno within me that is slowly replenishing my strength. They’re right in my view, and I can see their battle as I head toward them.

He’s Gabriel, then Kha, and then he’s Gabriel again, just as C. J. and Sethe metamorphose from one to the other. Everything is melting together even more, bleeding into itself. It’s hard to differentiate between what’s happening now and what’s a memory. It makes me want to curl up into the fetal position, suck my thumb, and shut it all out. But I can’t waver.

The freezing rain continues to descend. My hair is now sopping, clinging to my head
—
I may be getting wetter by the second, but it doesn’t phase me because I’m scorching with rage.

He killed me.
And he’s going to regret it.

I smile with satisfaction as I regain feeling in my legs. This allows me to crawl. My progress is picking up speed because seeing C. J. take Gabriel to task is quite motivating. They’re both about the same height, but C. J. is a trained fighter. Then again, Gabriel has magic in his arsenal. But maybe he’s trying to see how far he can get without it. It must be an ego thing. Or he’s just playing with him, like he did in ancient Egypt. Though I’m beginning to think he’s used up all his powers already, because it doesn’t seem like there’s anything left.

They keep hitting each other, avoiding each other. It’s got to be a challenge to keep from slipping while fighting in this terrain. Hopefully I’ll soon find out from personal experience.

C. J. punches Gabriel in the gut and then in the mouth before Gabriel has a chance to react. His horn
-
rimmed glasses fly off his face and hit a rock, the lenses smashing to smithereens. Blood careens from Gabriel’s mouth and hits the ice at his feet, intermingling with it. Now he knows what it’s like to have his blood spilled.

“Annabeth, let me explain!” Gabriel cries into the night air.

Gabriel keeps turning into Kha right before me. His head morphs from one that’s full of hair to one that’s clean
-
shaven. His outfit shifts from a linen robe to a Members Only jacket and jeans.

“I don’t want to hear any of your lies,” I spit out with contempt.

Gabriel’s sorry pleas, his attempt to further turn me, gives me the final push I need to get to my feet. I crack my knuckles in anticipation and break a large stick off a nearby birch tree with my bare hands. It would sting if my fingers weren’t so anesthetized from the cold, though it could still be a bit of lingering paralysis. Either way, it’s a small favor. I grasp it across my chest threateningly, ready to make the first blow.

“C. J., let me take my turn.”

My boyfriend looks up, assessing me. Is he disappointed? Is he ashamed? Can he love somebody this spiteful?

Yes, because he responds happily. “Have at it.”

I approach Gabriel, who’s still standing upright, but I can tell it’s a challenge for him. He’s been badly injured. Who knows what kind of bleeding is going on internally, considering how much is seeping from him externally. But I can’t find any pity for him within me now.

The frozen rain turns into falling snow. Or is it sand? Fluffy flakes descend upon us, covering the world in white…or is it gold? The full moon is shining brightly, casting its eerie glow on this fiery tundra…this frozen desert. And if I wasn’t trying to hurt somebody I once cared about, I would consider this a lovely evening in Maine…or ancient Egypt.

The need for vengeance has blocked out all else. I can’t think clearly, my thoughts are too muddled, too chaotic. And so I function automatically. I take my stick and run toward Gabriel. I smash him in the gut. He doubles over.

“That’s for killing me,” I growl.

“Who killed you? Me or Kha?” he asks between moans. As if there’s any question.

“We both know you’re one and the same,” I say calmly.

“I’m not so sure about that anymore. That’s why I had to find you,” says Gabriel, with difficulty, as he stands back up, clearly struggling to stay conscious.

“Why should I believe anything you have to say?” I ask…in the language of ancient Egypt. I can’t help it.

“Huh?” Gabriel replies. He glares at me, accepting his fate.

No matter what I do, no matter how hard I hit him, Gabriel, Kha…whoever he is…he’s still changing back and forth…does not fight me back. He stands there and takes it like a man, one might say, as I beat him repeatedly with my stick, swinging it around, making it sing in the wind as Ana once did.

Finally, once he’s spent, I do Ana’s most effective move, the leg sweep. Gabriel falls over and smashes into the ice
-
covered leaves, the sand
-
blown rock.

And so Gabriel lies there. Bleeding. Swelling. But he deserves it.

He killed me.

C. J. looks Gabriel over. His incapacitated brother’s breathing is strained, but he’s still with us.

“I do love you, bro, but for Annabeth’s sake, you’ve got this coming…”

And C. J.’s soft hazel eyes turn hard, cruel. C. J. takes the rough, lumbering stick from my hand and pulls it back into the air. He’s going to crack it into Gabriel’s skull; I can envision it now. It’s so plain. It’s so obvious. He’s going to kill him. On my account.

To me, his unspoken intentions are abundantly clear. And to add a hint of poetry, C. J. is going to murder his own brother in a move reminiscent of Kha’s.

At what point is it no longer revenge? Surely, these two wrongs can never make a right…And so my body, my soul, reacts. Even though I was just fighting him myself, even though I’m the one who made him so vulnerable…

Reservations emerge, pushing their way into my psyche. And once the door to doubt is opened, it’s hard to close. Uncertainty is plaguing me. Needling its way into my thoughts. And much as Gabriel’s death would be a satisfying conclusion, an absolute end to the problem…

It simply doesn’t add up.

So I throw myself on top of Gabriel.

I’ve thrown myself on top of Gabriel?

He groans, and I try to rearrange myself so that I’m not pressing his injuries, hurting him further. I need to shield him, but gently.

“Are you in much pain?”

“It only hurts when I breathe in…or out…But I’ll live…I think.”

Then Gabriel passes out. Thankfully, his chest continues to rise and fall. His breathing looks strained, but he’s still going. It’s probably a blessing he’s unconscious. I’m sure the agony is too great.

How could I have done this to him? How could I have wounded him with my own two hands?

Seeing Gabriel like this, my heart goes out to him. He may be flawed, but there’s something in him worth saving. He’s part of me, part of my progression, part of my story. Even if he’s done bad, even if he’s killed Mrs. Lansing, even if he killed Sethe, even if he killed me. I forgive him now.

Don’t we all make mistakes?

C. J. discards his stick limply.

“After all this, you choose him,” says C. J., dejected, rejected.

Do I choose him?

It would be insane to choose Gabriel.

“It isn’t about that,” I say, getting up to face him. “You could have killed him! I couldn’t have lived with it. And neither could you. I know you. It would be a mistake you’d always regret.”

“There’s no need to pretend. You choose him,” says C. J. grimly, as I shake my head no.

“C. J., you know how I feel about you.”

“Do I?” he asks, glowering.

“I love you.” But even as the words come from my mouth, they don’t feel authentic; they don’t ring true.

Is my love simply that fleeting? Or was it never really there to begin with?

“It’s so much easier to say it than to feel it,” he responds glumly.

Which is accurate. And the simple act of declaring something doesn’t make it so. From the sorry way he’s looking at me, one would think his world has just ended.

“Even though you think he’s evil. Even though he makes you afraid,” says C. J., his mouth bending down into an ugly frown.

“I’m sorry,” I reply…in the words of my ancestors. And this time, I know what I’m saying.

“Sorry. You’re sorry, you say? Sorry doesn’t change anything.”

Did he understand what I said? He must have. But how?

“You picked him, even after I became everything you ever wanted,” C. J. grumbles.

“What do you mean?”

“I did it for you. I always…do it for you,” he says, his brow creased in anguish.

And then, it hits me like a ton of boulders.

There is charged shock. There is burning anger. There is rushing acceptance.

“You’re Kha?”

He killed me.

“The lengths I go to for you. But you never appreciate all I do. Ana, I’ve worn this skin for the last thirteen years. Do you know what torture it’s been, seeing his face every time I look in the mirror?”

I gasp in disbelief. It can’t be true. And yet…I know it must.

“What are you saying? You were somehow able to…switch your souls?”

He doesn’t acknowledge a word I’m saying, which confirms it.

C. J. is Kha?

Gabriel is Sethe?

Gabriel is Sethe
! No wonder I was so confused! No wonder my emotions were constantly in flux. No wonder I wanted Gabriel despite it all.

I had no idea Kha could be so powerful. And yet the one thing he could never do was steal my heart.

“This is closer than we’ve been for a long time. This may not be the moment, but you’re getting there, slowly.”

My mouth is hanging open, and I don’t think to close it.

“Why did you kill Mrs. Lansing?”

“She figured it out, and I couldn’t risk her telling you. So she went into cardiac arrest. It was a rather unfortunate coincidence.”

He clutches his chest as though it hurts and then starts laughing evilly.

“It wasn’t my favorite. Other lifetimes have allowed me to kill Nefertari more…creatively. But it’s always satisfying.”

My stomach lurches at the thought of Kha deriving satisfaction, happiness, from her death, my mother’s death, especially knowing it’s happened many times over.

“Perhaps it was a faulty plan after all. I want you to love me…for me. Someday, you will give your heart willingly. I’ll find a way.”

I scoff. I’m about to snap back at C. J., tell him that he can wait for all of eternity, that I will never love him, when Kha…starts convulsing, trembling, jittering.

What power is he summoning now?

His eyes have rolled into his head, and I get a taste of what I must look like when I’m seizing. Hideous.

So I look away, to the ground next to me, and notice that Gabriel’s body…is now gone.

He’s gone?

I try to manage my panic, even though the fear is becoming unbearable. I can’t lose Sethe again. I hyperventilate at the thought.

Is there any point in breathing now?

I turn back to face C. J., who’s no longer rattling around. Now he is standing in front of me, and I see that he has a very different expression on his face. An expression I know all too well.

“Annabeth? What’s happening? How did I get here?”

“Magic,” I say with calm. With relief.

He’s no longer the pale
-
eyed, black
-
haired boy from the flea…No, he’s now the hazel
-
eyed, brown
-
haired boy from my memories, my past lives. The spell has been reversed.

Gabriel is Sethe!

“What are you talking about?” he asks, dazed.

“You don’t look like you anymore. And yet, you’re more like you than ever before.”

Gabriel feels his face, unable to truly tell the difference.

“What do you mean?”

“You look like C. J. Like Sethe.”

I pause, trying to figure out the best way to explain what’s gone on.

“You were never the evil one. We were both duped into believing it was you, but all along, it was C. J. He’s the reincarnated villain from our past. He orchestrated everything! And he swapped both your souls so that I’d fall in love with him.”

Gabriel…Sethe takes it in, and it’s obvious that he’s struggling with this newfound knowledge. After all, he can’t see what he looks like at the moment. It’s hard to believe that his soul has been transferred into this new body, which is actually his old body. Although that’s a feeling I understand pretty well!

I walk over and start unbuttoning his shirt with a purpose.

“Talk about mixed signals. But, all right!” he says with a laugh.

“Don’t get too excited.”

I find his scar, looking just as bumpy and misshapen as ever.

“Here, feel this.”

I place his hand upon his skin, and his eyes widen in shock. There’s no denying it now. He’s felt the physical proof.

“C. J.’s scar? But now…but now…My mom knew! The doctors blamed it on her illness. At the end, they said she was hallucinating. She insisted that my personality had changed, that after a point, Connor wasn’t himself. That I wasn’t myself. She could tell we’d been swapped!”

This seems to give Gabriel some sense of peace, and it allows me my own revelation.

“C. J.’s name is Connor?”

“Yeah. Connor James. He’s always preferred C. J.”

His name is Connor! That figures. There’s a Kha in there. With those who were strongly tied to my past lives, name variation seems to be a continuing thread. Even with places, names have importance. It’s a cat’s cradle, an interwoven tapestry of people, places, and events.