Incarnate: Infinite Part 33

"I want a sonata." Sarit leaned her head against Cris's shoulder. "And a symphony. Yes, I think that will do."

Across the table, Stef laughed, his voice deep and full. "You don't want much, do you?"

"Only what I deserve." Sarit grinned and took a bite of her sticky bun.

Sam closed his eyes and enjoyed his friends' presence and the sweet cacophony of Heart, but the flutist playing "Ana Incarnate" somewhere toward Phoenix Memorial caught his attention. A deep ache welled up in his chest as he saw her again: Ana, giving up the light; Ana, choosing him; Ana, giving up her life to ensure that others survived.

The grief was infinite.

Something about the vibrato caught him, and a section of triplets. Familiar . . .

"Are you okay, Sam?" Stef raised his eyebrows.

"I think so." They all knew how he felt about the waltz, both a blessing and a curse. Most days, he wished no one would ever play it again. But this flutist. The way they played. Sam shivered. "I have to see something."

He pushed himself away from the table and navigated the crowd of tents and people, catching a glimpse of himself in a mirror he pa.s.sed: white-blond hair, fair skin already red from sunshine. The stranger in the mirror every lifetime never got less unsettling.

He pa.s.sed advertis.e.m.e.nts for newsoul-focused communities, others for oldsoul-only communities. Not everyone was satisfied with their second chance.

Where the temple once stood, now there was a memorial, an obsidian phoenix wreathed in roses of every color. The flutist played somewhere on the steps leading up to it.

He pushed between tents and stalls until finally he saw a girl on the stairs, lost in the music of "Ana Incarnate." Heavy black hair tumbled over her shoulders, and her limbs were all angles, like someone who hadn't fully grown into her body. She would be tall, and for someone who looked barely a quindec, she played remarkably well.

He wasn't the only music teacher in Range, but still. The way she moved with the music. The way she connected with it.

As he pushed through the crowd, the girl's attention snapped up, and she looked at him. Her cheeks tightened as she played toward the coda, as though she were trying not to smile.

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't hope. Couldn't stop remembering the light flooding from Ana into the silver chain.

Sam climbed the stairs two at a time as the black-haired girl played four long notes and lowered her flute. When she bent to place it in her case, obsidian-black wings stretched behind her: the phoenix statue.

He wanted to believe. Wanted more than anything.

He stopped only a step away from her while people milled around, ignoring them. Stef called his name in the distance, but he didn't turn.

"Is it really you?" He'd never wished for anything so much.

The girl looked up at him. Her eyes were so blue they put the sky to shame. She could have been anyone, but she'd drawn him with her music. Even if he couldn't trust his eyes, he could trust his ears and heart. She wasn't just anyone.

With a strangled cry, he caught her in his arms. "I've been too afraid to hope," he breathed. She was hugging him back, and they were both trembling. "I've missed you so much."

She pulled away to turn her palms up, revealing pale scars. Chain links. When shadows pa.s.sed over her skin, the scars glowed.

Ana leaned close and whispered, "I've been reborn."

ACKNOWLEDMENTS.

UNENDING THANKS TO:.

Lauren MacLeod, my agent. I can't imagine doing this publishing thing without you. From midnight crazy emails to editorial advice to contract negotiations: you handle it all, and more. Thank you for always believing in me.

Sarah Shumway, my editor. I've always thought the best kind of editor is one who can see through a messy draft to the heart of the story and help the author tell the tale they intended. You are that kind of editor, and I couldn't be more grateful. Thank you for always pushing me to look deeper and work harder.

The entire team at Katherine Tegen Books, including: Alana Whitman, Aubry Parks-Fried, Lauren Flower, Margot Wood, Megan Sugrue, Stephanie Stein, and King Snarkles, an epic team of epic people (and stuffed hedgehog) who make epic things happen for epic books. Love you ladies (and hedgie)!

Amy Ryan and Joel Tippie, art director and designer, who gave the Incarnate trilogy a series of amazing covers and gorgeous insides. You guys are magic.

Brenna Franzitta and Valerie Shea, production editor and copy editor, who not only catch missing commas but all sorts of stuff that would completely embarra.s.s me if it ever saw paper. Thanks for making me look smarter than I really am!

Casey McIntyre, my publicist and occasional superhero. I'd throw a parade in your honor, but I don't think I could organize it without your help.

Lauren Dubin, production manager, who doesn't get nearly enough credit for all she does.

Laurel Symonds, editorial a.s.sistant extraordinaire, who Gets Stuff Done. You are amazing.

And, of course, Katherine Tegen herself, publisher of so many amazing books. Thank you for giving the Incarnate trilogy a home. I can't imagine a better place for Ana and Sam.

Friends who doubled as critique partners for this ma.n.u.script: Adam Heine, who read a super-early (and bad) draft of Infinite and still wanted to be my friend. Thanks, man. (As for whether I've actually taken a ride on a dragon, well, I can't say. In public.) Christine Nguyen, the sweetest smooshface who ever lived. You brighten every day. Thank you for always being so enthusiastic and loving. You are to me what Sarit is to Ana.

C. J. Redwine, my Brain Twin. Not only are you hilarious and talented and one of the strongest people I've ever met, you're also one of the best friends I could have asked for.

Corinne Duyvis, who also read an extremely early version of this ma.n.u.script. You're a trooper! (But seriously, no petting wild bears, okay?) Gabrielle Harvey, who does her best to keep me from looking like a musical dunce (all mistakes are my own!), and who also helped create Dossam's Greatest Hits. One day, we will persuade someone to make Phoenix Symphony real for us. One day!

Jill Roberts, my mom, who always believed in my dreamsa"sometimes more than I did. Thanks for never doubting me.

Jillian Boehme, an amazing reader and an even more amazing friend. I can't imagine what my life would be like without you. Thank you for always being there when I need you. (Sorry I typoed your name in Asunder. I love youuu!) Joy George Hensley, for being such a steadfast friend. Your support and enthusiasm keep me going. And maybe we should make Pride & Prejudice & Cupcakes Day an annual thing. Or biannual. Or weekly.

Kathleen Peac.o.c.k, one of the most humble and fiercely loyal people in the whole world. I'm eternally grateful that we are friends.

Myra McEntire, who is one of the strongest, most determined people I know. You are an inspiration.

Sarah Schaffner, my sister, who really should have been mentioned in previous acknowledgments as well. Thank you for your "give me more Ana and Sam" threats. I mean, encouragement. You're the best sister in the world.

A few people whose friendship and encouragement has meant the world to me: Amanda Downum, Bria Quinlan, Brodi Ashton, Celia Marsh, Cynthia Hand, Elizabeth Bear, Francesca Forrest, Gwen Hayes, Hannah Barnaby, Jaime Lee Moyer, Jeri Smith-Ready, Kat Allen, Kevin Kibelstis, Kristen-Paige Madonia, Lisa Iriarte, Mandy Buehrlen, Nina Nakayama, Phoebe North, Rae Carson, Robin McKinley, Stacey Lee, Valerie Cole, Wendy Beer, and many, many more. I've been blessed with so many amazing people in my life that I couldn't possibly fit everyone in here. If I (shamefully) neglected to mention you, here's a blank s.p.a.ce for you to write your name: The Apocalypsies, for continued support and camaraderie.

The Pub(lishing) Crawl girls, for being such an awesome force for good in my life.

Team Incarnate, with a special high five for Julie, who keeps this thing running.

My book bloggers (you know who you are) who continue to post and tweet about the series and recommend it to friends. Love you guys. Never change.

Countless booksellers, teachers, and librarians who get books into the hands of people who will love them. You are incredible. Thank you for all that you do.

G.o.d, who I will never be able to thank enough for this wonderful life and all the incredible people who surround me.

And as always, you, the reader, for picking up this book. I've been so fortunate as to receive heartwarming notes from some of you, and to even meet a few of you in person. You make this whole experience real. Thank you for caring. Thank you for reading. Thank you for being you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR.

JODI MEADOWS lives and writes in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, with her husband, a cat, and an alarming number of ferrets. She is a confessed book addict and has wanted to be a writer ever since she decided against becoming an astronaut. You can visit her online at www.jodimeadows.com.

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BOOKS BY JODI MEADOWS.

Incarnate.

Asunder.

end.