“I’m fine,” I told him. “You missed Maddox dropkicking him down a shaft.”
Leo’s concern faded but didn’t disappear, even as he smiled approvingly at Maddox. “Well done.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not sure if that’s going to compare to what you did,” the raven-haired woman replied, smiling ruefully. “Leaping to the top of a fifteen-foot-high platform in a single bound? I’m pretty sure you’ve earned another deed name after this.”
“I’ll say,” Ambrose said, a touch bitterly. I saw him rein it back almost immediately, but it was still there—a resentment burning under the surface. “How did you even do that?”
I swallowed. I knew I shouldn’t be concerned—it was unlikely that Ambrose would be able to figure out what Leo was from his questions alone—but the heightened accuracy was enough to give anyone pause. And if it had been broadcast by the drones, as I was sure it had been, then that meant other people would be noticing Leo’s prowess. It would make him a target just as much as Ambrose was now, even though he had no desire to be Champion.
“Practice,” Leo lied smoothly. “Now, shall we? I believe we’ll need to exit the arena before our net functions are returned to us, and I am worried for Tian.”
I nodded. “Yes, please,” I replied. Even though we had gotten to go first, thus guaranteeing we were in and out as quickly as possible, I could still feel the press of time, and hoped that Mercury and Quess had at least located her. But there was no way to tell until our full net functions were restored and I could call them. I was starting to turn and move toward the official, who was still waiting, when Ambrose grabbed my arm and held me back.
I turned to look at his hand on my arm, then him, and realized he still wanted to talk. Maddox and Leo shot me questioning looks, but I waved them ahead with a nod. “What’s up?” I asked several seconds later. “And will you be keeping my arm?”
Ambrose released his firm hold with a surprising amount of gentleness, and then cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. “Well, I still want to thank you for what you did, and—”
“It really isn’t necessary, Ambrose,” I said, trying not to be impatient. “I just did what anyone else would do.”
“You can’t know that,” he said, frowning.
“Of course I can!” I replied. “At least, I can with our teammates. And that includes you.”
He looked down at the floor, his expression growing haunted. “I don’t know that I would’ve,” he admitted hoarsely. “At least, before today, I probably would’ve just let you die.” He met my gaze, his eyes apologetic and searching to gauge what my response was.
To be honest, his revelation didn’t exactly surprise me. After all, we’d barely gotten along since we’d met, and I’d even entertained my own thoughts of his death from time to time. But they were just that: thoughts.
Yet for some reason, it was bothering Ambrose.
“It’s okay,” I told him, trying to reassure him. I cast a glance down the hall to where Leo and Maddox were meeting with the official, and then began slowly walking toward them, encouraging him to keep up. If he wanted to have a heart-to-heart, then it would have to be on the move. “I may or may not have considered what life would be like with you dead a time or two myself. But that has nothing to do with—”
“You’re a good leader, Liana.”
He said the words flatly, but behind them, there seemed to be a spring of sadness shining through. I stared at him for a second, trying to puzzle out what would make him feel so sad and give him a need to admit such a thing out loud.
“Is this about the cauldron?” I asked, unable to come up with any sort of answer that made sense. “And that Leo lit it? I’m sorry for that, but it was the only way we could progress!”
The official scanned us as we passed by to confirm our identities, and then went back to watching the hall. Maddox and Leo were already heading down the black, wrought-iron spiral staircase, and I let Ambrose go through first, still not willing to give up his security, even with the recent attack.
“It’s not that,” he said, his boots landing heavily on the steps. “Well, it is, but it’s not.” He sighed, and this time I remained quiet. He was clearly struggling with what he wanted to say, so I just needed to wait until he was ready.
“Look, I know I’ve been an unbelievable jerk to you and your friends, and I’m… sorry.”
It was clear from how slowly he formed it that he was having difficulty with the word, and I realized this was costing him his pride. Impressed, I mentally applauded him for doing it—before finding myself wondering what had prompted this apology.
“Thank you for that,” I said after a long moment had passed and he didn’t offer anything more. “And, please don’t take this the wrong way, but what brought this on?”
He paused for a few seconds, and then resumed walking. “You and Lacey were right.”
I drew my brows together in confusion. We were right? I mean, of course we were, but he needed to be a little bit more specific as to what we were right about.
“About?”
“About people being after me. Trying to kill me. I… God, this seemed so clear in my head fifteen seconds ago, but I feel like I’m not getting it out right.”
“Relax,” I said, trying to soothe him. “I’m not going to judge you.”
“But you should. I’ve been anything but a leader since you showed up. I mean, you killed Devon Alexander, Liana. And Lacey wanted to put you in the Tourney next to me, thinking that somehow I could outshine you, but… I clearly couldn’t.”
I frowned. “Look, being popular for killing Devon is not exactly something I relish, Ambrose. For the record, I didn’t even kill him. Grey did.”
“He did?”
“Yup. We just didn’t feel the need to advertise that, seeing as how the council already saw me as their biggest threat. Plus, Lacey and Strum assumed I had done it, so why correct them?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. The sound carried through the tight walls of the staircase we were in, rich with good humor. “See? You’re so quick to think things through. It’s smart not to correct someone’s assumptions. It gives you an advantage.”
I thought about that for a second, surprised that he viewed my actions with such depth. He was wrong, of course—I just filed everything under “nobody’s business until I make it their business,” and moved on. That was about as deep as it got.
“Yes, but clearly you’re aware it’s something you can do, if you want to. Isn’t that a characteristic of leadership?”
“I never think of it in the moment,” he replied wistfully. He was quiet for several heartbeats, and my gut told me something more was coming, so I waited. “Anyway, that’s not really the point. I know I’m not a good leader, because of how I treated you after Lacey told me you were going to be on my team. You have to understand that all my life, my family raised me knowing that they were going to send me to the Knights Department eventually. I was groomed for the position, really—even had three former Knights who tutored me on history, ethics, and combat.
“But every time I envisioned it, it was always with my friends by my side. I mean, I was so obsessed with finding the perfect teammates that I started vetting people at the Academy, trying to find the most compatible team. But then you breeze in, and you’re just so smart, and in control of everything. I know you and your team are doing even more than you’re letting on, and yet you’re always so calm and collected. And I just… I saw everything I aspired to be inside a lowly criminal, and I just… hated you.”
I paused on the steps, staring at the back of his head as he continued down without me, my heart pounding. It made total sense now. He had been preparing for this his whole life, only to have his vision of it corrupted by an unwanted interloper and her merry band of criminals. It must have been disappointing and beyond disheartening for him, and he’d lashed out at the source of all his disillusionment: me.
“Damn, Ambrose,” I said, resuming the climb down.
“I’m not even sure what you want me to say. I mean, I didn’t exactly want to be here, either. I was just trying to do what I had to do to keep my friends safe.”
“I know that, and that’s what makes it worse. Even though you didn’t want it, you handled it with professionalism and an exceptional amount of patience, whereas I… I did what I did out of pettiness. That’s not what a leader does. A leader does what you did.” He gave a self-depreciating laugh as he stepped down off the stairs and onto the landing at the bottom. “I don’t deserve to be Champion. You do.”
I blinked, surprised to hear something like that coming out of his mouth. “You don’t mean that. I mean, you can’t mean that. I’m a criminal, for Scipio’s sake!”
He fell into step beside me as I stepped off the staircase, and we exited through the door and entered the hall beyond. I spotted Leo and Maddox on the left, and moved to follow them.
“Look, you guys keep yourselves pretty tight-lipped about what you are up to, but I know it’s big. And given how much you seem to care about people, I doubt whatever it is will hurt them. If anything, you are probably trying to help them, which means we’re on the same side. If you were to win the Tourney, I’d… I’d be willing to say something to Lacey. She might be able to accept me as your Lieutenant, provided you share information and work with us.”
I blinked again, and then smiled, looking over at Ambrose. I wasn’t sure why, but his offer was both generous, and genuine in its delivery. He sounded like he not only liked the idea, but was excited by it as well.
“I think Lacey might not like that,” I warned him in a light tone.
“So we won’t tell her, just let the Tourney decide. Besides, I can’t help it if the Knights choose you over me. She’ll just have to accept it after the fact.”
I was flattered, and for a moment, I actually found myself considering all the possibilities that would open up if I were named Champion. I could start rooting out the legacy groups from the Tower, while having a bit more freedom to move around and look for Jasper.
But it also came with a heavy price: forever having to watch my back. No doubt the legacies would be gunning for whoever was in the position. And given the lengths they were willing to go to, I had no doubt they would come hard and fast. It was too dangerous to even consider.
We lapsed into silence as the walk continued. It took a little time for us to follow the hall to its destination, and within a few minutes we were in the intake room, returning our equipment to the official. We signed out quickly, and made our way back to the spectator’s arena.
A loud whoop went up as we drew closer to the door that led to the arena. I recognized Ambrose’s friends as they broke away from a group of people milling around one of the viewing screens and raced over.
“Hey, good job out there ‘Brose,” one of them said, clapping him on the shoulder. “That move your teammate executed with the lashes—that was insane!”
Ambrose laughed and nodded congenially. “I’m just glad we made it through in one piece. So why are you guys here instead of in the stands?”
One of them smiled. “Because we came here to root for you, and now that you’re done, we figured we’d get some lunch. You want in?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind eating at my place and I can bring Maddox with me?”
Ambrose spoke before I could even formulate an objection, and it was so shocking that it took me a few moments to recover.
“Of course!” his friend said brightly. “We could always use a pretty lady to talk to.”
The look Maddox gave him in return promised him a cold and icy death, and I hid my smile. I was still elated that Ambrose hadn’t even blinked an eye at following my directive that he didn’t go anywhere alone.
“Yeah, all right,” Maddox said. “But as soon as we get news about our friend, we’ll have to go.”
“Of course,” Ambrose replied smoothly, not even missing a beat in agreeing with Maddox’s cover story to explain why they might have to leave early. “Shall we?”
He offered her an arm, but Maddox didn’t take it until she got a nod of approval from me. Within moments, the five of them were walking away from us, heading for the elevator bank. I watched them for a second, and then looked over at Leo.
“You did a good job in there,” I told him, and he smiled.
“I fear the deed name of ‘Untouchable’ will have to persist for a while,” he replied apologetically. “My attackers were unable to land a single blow. I’m sorry—I know I should do my best to appear to have some weaknesses or flaws, but I can’t seem to bring myself to allow any harm to come to Grey’s body while I am charged with its safety.”
My heart skipped a beat at his thoughtful consideration, and the honor and integrity behind it, and I found myself wanting to reach out and take his hand, just to convey my gratitude to him for being so good.
My indicator beeped, interrupting the moment, and I quickly checked my wrist and saw that Quess was calling. I immediately picked up by swiping a finger across the digital display on it.
Liana, Quess’s voice rattled around in my head, and I clenched my teeth against it. Tian just contacted me, and she’s scared. I think she’s in trouble.
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I whirled around and immediately began scanning the crowds for Maddox, Quess’s words burning holes in my ears. I’d lost her in the chaos, but I knew she was heading for the elevator bank.
“Net Leo in and tell us what happened,” I said as I began pushing through the stream of people who had seemingly manifested from nowhere.
Leo gave me a puzzled look, and I mouthed Quess’s name to him as I darted around the people in my way, forging my own path ahead. Moments later, the buzzing under my skull intensified, signaling the increased neural load of the transmission.
She just called me, Liana, Quess announced, his voice tight with panic. She said there were people following her, and she was scared! They must’ve somehow managed to trap her in a corner or grab her, because now she’s not picking up, and her net is dead, Liana. I can’t get it to respond to my pings.
The bottom of my stomach gave out as Quess’s panic and words lit fire to the worst fears imaginable. Because if Tian’s net wasn’t even responding to a location ping, there were only a handful of explanations: it had been removed, masked, or destroyed. There was a very real possibility that someone, probably our enemies, had gotten her.
And who knew what they would do to her? If they were willing to kill us, could that mean they were capable of hurting a young girl to get what they wanted? My heart needed to believe that it wasn’t possible—that no one was that depraved—but I couldn’t risk being wrong. Not with Tian hanging in the balance.
“Were you able to find her location before her net went dark?” I asked.
Yes, she’s somewhere under the Orchard. We found her not long after you left for the Tourney, but it was too difficult to anticipate where she was going to be, given the randomness of her movements. I mean, she didn’t slow down until she got to the Orchard! I already alerted Zoe and Eric, and they are on their way. You guys can get there at the same time if you move now. Is Doxy with you? If not, I’ll net her. You guys just move. We can’t waste a moment.
I hesitated in my fruitless pushing down the hall, thinking. Maddox had every right to know that we’d found Tian—and then lost her—and that she was in danger, but I wasn’t sure telling her right then was the right call. As much as it sickened me to leave her in the dark, I knew that once Maddox was told, she’d want to come, and there was every possibility that this was all a trap to lure us away from Ambrose—or worse, get him out into the open.
I considered trusting his friends for a short period of time, but I couldn’t trust their motives; something as intangible as friendship was easy to lie about, and required very little proof other than listening. It could be faked for years, if someone really wanted to go the distance. They might not be what he thought they were—and I couldn’t take that risk.
&nb
sp; I hated to even think it, but I couldn’t tell her. I needed them both thinking everything was all right, so they would stay in the apartment. If she believed we were still searching, but with no news, it would buy us some time and she’d stay focused on keeping Ambrose safe.
“Don’t tell Maddox,” I told Quess, forcing the words through my tight throat. Of all the injustices I had unwittingly visited upon her, this was the first one I was doing willingly, and I despised myself for it.
But it had to be done.
What? Quess asked, his alarm causing me to wince slightly. You want me to keep this from her?
I could hear the horror and recusal in his voice, and it was almost enough to make me reconsider. Almost.
“Quess, there is a chance that whoever is after Tian is only after her to lure Ambrose out. If we tell Maddox, she’s going to run off half-cocked to help save her, and possibly leave Ambrose exposed—or even worse, bring him with her, and expose him on her mad dash to get here. She’ll be frantic with this news, and might overlook keeping Ambrose safe. They are going back to the apartment now, which is a defendable, familiar place, and without worrying about Tian, she can focus on doing the job. I would change out with her, but it’s too late for that now. She can’t know. Not yet.”
I could feel Quess’s indecision, but I didn’t wait for him to realize I was right. Instead, I turned around and headed for the wall separating me from the outside of the Salles. The lashways on this level had been closed up for the Tourney, so as not to risk anyone from another department from accidentally falling, but they could be overridden in case of an emergency.
I was declaring this an emergency.
I moved over to a panel sitting next to a closed one, and pressed a button. “Liana Castell, 25K-05, Knight Elite. Override authorized on my authority. Open lashway 65-B.”
“Lashway opening override confirmed,” the robotic voice spat back, and a section of the wall next to it slid open with a puff of air strong enough to move my hair. I heard people gasp and pull away, but ignored them as I drew my lash line out and began whirling it in my hand.
The Girl Who Dared to Descend Page 27