Copyright
HarperVoyager an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
7785 Fulham Palace Road
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
www.harpervoyagerbooks.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2014
Copyright © Lauren DeStefano 2014
Cover design and book design by Lizzy Bromley.
Lauren DeStefano asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © December 2014 ISBN: 9780007545384
Version: 2014-11-19
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
No Intention of Dying
About the Author
Also by Lauren DeStefano
About the Publisher
It had been a year since the incident, and now music filled the apartment.
Daphne was curled on the window ledge in her bedroom, staring at her reflection superimposed over the faraway view of the glasslands.
She tapped her pen to the edge of her notebook.
Are you writing? Judas said. He sat on the floor beside the window, staring at a blank page of his own. Were supposed to have three pages about the two gods by tomorrow, and I was kind of counting on your genius to inspire me.
Really, Judas. We go through this every year. Weve read the material dozens of times by now. What they want is to see how our own unique perspectives have changed.
They want us to regurgitate the text so that they can be sure we arent getting any wild ideas, you mean.
Dont be such a cynic, Daphne said. But when she looked at her paper, the only line she had written was a direct quote from her text.
The music stopped abruptly, and then the silence was broken by a crash of piano keys, and then another.
Amy? Daphne was on her feet and out of the room in an instant. After the incident, Amys fits had begun and Daphne had learned all the warning signs, the first of which was silence. Amy!
Daphnes sister was lying on the floor by the piano, shuddering. Her eyes were open, all pupil, before they rolled back into white.
Judas ran in after Daphne. What can I do?
You can heat some water and get a cloth, Daphne said, kneeling beside her sister. She was acting funny this morning. I thought this might be coming.
Amy had been seven last year when a patrolman had found her at Internments edge. It had been days before shed awoken, and then longer still before shed been able to speak. Shed worn bruises then, and a cast on her broken arm. A damaged doll of a girl.
The bruises had faded. The arm had healed. Their parents didnt speak of it. They wanted to believe that their youngest daughters mind was as unblemished as her skin.
The convulsions stopped, mercifully, and Daphne dabbed at her sisters cheeks with the warm damp cloth. There, she said. Its over. It wasnt even a five on a scale of one to ten.
Amys eyes opened, cloudy but blue again, and she groaned.
Lie still, Daphne said, when her sister tried to pick herself up. You remember what the doctor said. Dont move until your vision clears. Your eyes are still unfocused; I can see it.
I couldnt finish the song, Amy murmured, after several seconds. She was blinking at the ceiling. The last chord I played is trapped in my head, flying around.