by Dylan Steel
“Greetings, citizens of Eprah,” he said, a look of manufactured sorrow in his eyes. “It is with great sadness that I find myself forced to come before you today on behalf of the Quorum, sharing news of the destruction of our cherished Archives.” He paused long enough to glance over his shoulder at the fiery images now playing on a loop.
“This horrific event is just one of many recent tragedies—tragedies for which we have only the Lawless to blame.” A vein bulged in his forehead.
“They vie for our attention, but in ensuring they have commanded that attention, they have once again gone too far. They have burned the Archives—the host of the very same past they claim to be so protective of—and in doing so have struck at the heart of our history. If anything, this is simply more proof of their lies—of how little they actually care to preserve our history and of the depths of manipulation to which they will stoop.”
Sage’s jaw ached from grinding her teeth together. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, knuckles whitening as she listened to him slander her and her allies.
“They spout ideas of fairness and peace while bringing utter devastation to the very people they claim to want to help. The corruption, destruction, and death brought about by these fanatics has reached new heights that cannot be ignored. But rest assured, we are doing everything in our power to bring them and their traitorous movement to an end.”
Pausing, Mr. Gaztok looked straight into the camera and sent a shower of chills down Sage’s spine.
“After much effort, we have captured the man we believe to be behind this Lawless rebellion. A man who has taken advantage of Eprah’s goodwill and turned around to spit in our faces. His name is most likely familiar to you as both a benefactor and a Quorum candidate—although he is now clearly disqualified from holding either position.”
Mr. Gaztok’s eyes narrowed as a new image appeared beside him. “Weston Bennick, leader of the Lawless.”
Heat tore through Sage’s skin as her cheeks burned red with fury. A picture of Weston’s face hovered in the air, unmoving. There was nothing to indicate that he’d already suffered at Mr. Gaztok’s hand, but she could see the strained lines around his eyes, and she knew how many bruises clothing and artful camera angles could hide.
“Some might ask how we can be so certain of his guilt. A fair question. Our benefactors are known and loved for all they do in support of Eprah, and it’s understandably difficult to accept that one might betray us all in such a manner.”
Mr. Gaztok paused again, allowing a mournful expression to settle over his face as he stared deeply into the comm, as if he were looking each citizen in the eye.
“While it would be unwise to share all the details of an ongoing investigation, I will share this: Only this morning, Mr. Bennick made a cowardly attempt to take his own life rather than submit to a line of questioning—one which could have easily exonerated him from all wrongdoing. The level of obvious forethought and planning that went into this attempt only serves to strengthen the case against him and further our confidence in the fact that we have apprehended the right man…”
Dizziness threatened to overtake Sage as she stood frozen in her hiding place. While she listened to the last Quorum member’s tirade against the man she’d grown to care so much about, every conceivable emotion squeezed across her chest. Relief that he could no longer take his own life—and relief that he’d failed. Horror that he’d tried to. Fear of what Mr. Gaztok might now do with Weston completely unable to stop him. Anger that he’d already done enough to make Weston feel like there was no other way out.
“… However, I am pleased to say he was unsuccessful in his attempt at escaping Eprah’s justice. We will continue questioning him so that we can unmask the rest of the traitors living among us and put a stop to this selfish, rebellious movement once and for all. And in two weeks’ time, he will be brought to justice like those traitors who went before him—in a public execution.”
Public execution.
Sage’s mouth went dry as his words replayed in her mind. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. This couldn’t be happening.
“To prevent any attempts at a rescue by those who share his treasonous fanaticism, I will withhold the details of his execution for now. But please remember, Eprah has always and will always serve you, its people, and will continue to reward those who are worthy and loyal. Stay alert for subversives among you, and be sure to report any suspicious activity to the proper authorities. Until next time.”
He nodded curtly, then was gone from the room, taking with him the images of Weston and the smoldering Archives.
Two weeks. Mr. Gaztok must not expect to get much information out of Weston. Or he’d already gotten plenty. Either way, there wasn’t much time.
Sage pushed open the wardrobe door, staggering out dazedly. One thought after another flew through her mind, and she felt each one slipping away faster than the last. “He’s going to kill him.” The words came out in almost a whisper.
“We’d already guessed as much,” Martha said firmly. “Nothing’s changed from this morning.”
Sage’s eyes flicked to Martha’s. “Except we won’t be able to keep it a secret anymore.”
“No, we won’t.” Martha’s voice didn’t waver, but she couldn’t keep the pained expression from her face. “But hopefully enough of our allies will come through regardless.”
“They will if they know we’re going to end this once and for all. If they know they won’t have to live in fear or hiding ever again.” The confidence in Sage’s voice surprised even herself, but it faltered a moment later as she added, “But now that Weston can’t… If he gives up anything before we—”
“He’s strong. He won’t give information up easily.” Martha patted Sage on the arm, but Sage caught a flash of worry behind her eyes before she looked away.
“We can’t waste time thinking about that right now.” Sage straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to ignore the stab of pain that shot through her chest every time she thought about what her benefactor was going through. “Weston set a meeting with the Rogues for tonight. I know it seems like a desperate move, but I think it’s best we keep it.”
“He told me what they said when you met with them.” Martha hesitated. “I know enough about Dred to know how he thinks. He’s stubborn and short-sighted and cares only for his own people. They won’t help. Not willingly. Especially not after Mr. Gaztok’s speech.”
Sage tilted her head, narrowing her eyes in determination. “Then I guess we’ll have to convince them.”
3. THREATS
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Martha whispered as she gripped Sage’s arm tightly, eyes wild with worry.
Sage glanced down at her hand, then back up, meeting her gaze coolly. “I don’t see how there’s much of a choice.”
“We can find another way. It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“There is no other way. And there isn’t time to find one even if there was.” Sage’s jaw stiffened. “We need all the help we can get.”
Pulling away from Martha’s hold, Sage marched forward alone, brush crunching underfoot.
Time blurred as she pressed deeper, moving farther into the woods. Martha and the estate were out of sight behind her now, hidden well behind the tree line that she could no longer see in the falling darkness.
“That’s far enough.”
The deep voice froze her in her tracks for a moment, but then she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin as she raised her voice to the unseen man, taking another deliberate step forward. This wouldn’t work if she showed her fear. “If I’m not mistaken, you are a guest here—not someone in a position to give me orders on my own property.”
An unearthly chuckle echoed around her. “Your own property?”
A figure stepped out from behind a tree. Sage squinted as the man came closer, gradually sharpening into view. Dred. Just who she’d hoped would show.
“It seems quite presumptuous for you to
call this your property. As a pair, it seems more fitting that you are simply considered no more than just another part of the benefactor’s property, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe if you or I were Loyalists, we’d both see it that way.” Sage clenched her jaw, holding back the anger building in her chest. She belonged to no one. “But it’s no secret that neither of us is—or that you are already trusting in Mr. Bennick’s goodwill by setting foot on his property and expecting to leave in one piece.”
“Ah, I see. It is his property now.” Dred smirked.
“I didn’t come to argue over semantics,” Sage spat.
“Oh, of course not. You have more important things to do than that, I’m sure.” Sarcasm dripped from his every word as he surveyed the woods around them, not bothering to meet her eyes.
“I don’t have time for this,” Sage said, deliberately allowing the annoyance she felt to creep into her tone. “Mr. Bennick requires an answer to his earlier question. Will you honor the agreement your father made and help the Lawless cause?”
“Mr. Bennick… I don’t see him here.” Dred craned his neck, making a show of looking over her shoulder. “If he requires an answer, one would expect he would show the courtesy of being present for it.”
Sage’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve no doubt heard the news. You know perfectly well why he’s not here.”
Dred cocked his head. “News?” he asked innocently.
She pursed her lips. “If you really haven’t heard the lies Mr. Gaztok has been spouting to all of Eprah, you’re less than useless as spies, and I doubt any of your assistance would actually be helpful.”
Dred’s jaw flexed. “You should be more careful who you insult, girl.”
“As should you.” She met the fire in his eyes unflinchingly. “Will you honor your agreement with the Lawless or not?”
“I told Mr. Bennick before. I will not put my people in danger to satisfy his pointless vendetta—one which is even more of a certain death sentence for the rest of us now that he’s been taken by the authorities. My answer hasn’t changed. I only came here tonight as a courtesy to Mr. Bennick given our past dealings.”
“So that’s it?” Sage shook her head. “You’d dishonor your father and prove your cowardice to save your own skin.”
Dred took a step toward her, raising himself to his full height. “I would protect my people against a pointless suicide mission so they can live to see another day,” he growled.
“You’re doing this for your people?” She stared up at him, unwilling to back down. “You think this is what they want? Can they really be happy? They’re scattered, disorganized, separated from one another.”
His lips curled. “They like it that way.”
“Maybe. But as it is, they could be easily overwhelmed by a superior force. They’re isolated. Indefensible, as they are,” she said, holding his gaze. “Quite a concern in uncertain times like this, wouldn’t you say?”
“Is that a threat, girl?”
“Yes. It is,” she said evenly. “I’ve done things in my life that I’m not proud of, but I can tell you without a doubt that—should you fail to honor the agreement your people set with the Bennicks—I will sleep well knowing I destroyed your people for their betrayal.”
Dred’s knuckles popped at his side. “You came to me asking for help. You haven’t got the manpower to follow through on your threat.”
“Make no mistake, Dred.” She took a step forward, raising her chin. “The Lawless are not as small in number as most think. We are more than capable of following through on this threat, and we will not hesitate if you force our hand. Yes, we could use your help on this mission, but we will carry it out with or without you. Either way, we will see success, but if it comes without your aid, you will miss out on more than a promise of a homeland.”
He looked at her in disgust. “Weston would never do what you’re suggesting. Would never threaten my people for his own gain.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” Her eyes narrowed. “He’s not here. And after you refused to help and sent him on his way, I’d say you bear some of the blame for that. It only makes sense that you would have to deal with the consequences of your own inaction.”
She pursed her lips. “And this is hardly all just for Weston. This is for all people in Eprah, whether common or Lawless or Rogue. We’re doing this because all of our lives matter, and we’re sick of being treated as disposable.”
Dred’s hand shot out like lightning, wrapping around Sage’s throat. She gasped for breath, clawing desperately at his hand as he slammed her back against the nearest tree.
“Your life doesn’t matter to me,” he snarled, tightening his grasp as she wrenched against his hold. “Give me one good reason to let you walk away after the threat you just made against my people.”
“If I don’t… return… your people will… die tonight… and you… won’t leave here alive,” she wheezed, still struggling against his vice grip.
“You’re bluffing.”
Sage winced, fighting to take in air. “I’m… not.” She flicked her eyes toward the trees, letting Dred follow her gaze until both of them noticed a brief flash of light. A signal. She wasn’t alone.
His lips twitched in indecision, then his hand went slack around her neck and dropped to his side. Venom filled his voice. “What do you propose?”
“We’re going to save Weston, and we’re going to overthrow the Quorum.” Her nose wrinkled slightly in distaste as she rubbed her neck. “It’s just one man now anyways.”
“That’s ambitious,” he said dryly. “It’s a shame we never thought of that before.”
“We have more pieces in place than ever before. Eprah will fall, and the Lawless will return the rule to the people,” Sage said firmly. “And after the Rogues have done their part assisting us, the Lawless will be more than happy to honor the original agreement between our people. You will have your land and your own rule, and you won’t have to scavenge like animals to survive anymore.”
Dred stared back at her, seething silently as he contemplated her words. “What do you need us to do?”
“So you’ve decided you’ll help us?”
“You haven’t given me much choice,” he said throatily.
Sage returned his glare with one of her own as she continued. “As the last surviving member of the Quorum, Mr. Gaztok will be heavily guarded. The same goes for Mr. Bennick. We need to siphon as many guards away as we can, which means we need a distraction. A big one. That’s where you come in.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Any specific ideas?”
The corner of her mouth tugged up in a small smile. “A few.”
4. RUINS
“You’ve never looked better,” Sage mumbled to herself as she stared into the small mirror, wiping off the last remnants of makeup she’d layered on just a few hours earlier. Half the reason she’d worn it was for shooting more “propaganda” footage—as Mr. Gaztok would no doubt soon call it. The other half had been an attempt to hide the fact that she’d only slept a couple hours at a time over the past few days. But she didn’t need it anymore. Not for what came next.
“And now you’re talking to yourself. That’s a good sign.”
Snapping the mirror closed, Sage tucked it in her pocket, brushing the handle of the small knife she’d also brought with her. She pulled it from the sheath hidden inside her jacket and turned it over in her hands, examining the sharpness of its edge.
It was one of Weston's. A few weeks ago, he'd shown her a room filled with a hidden cache of weapons—just in case. At the time, she'd thought he was being a little too paranoid. Overprepared at a minimum. Only officers and Rogues carried weapons. With bracelets and zeptobes, there was no point in anyone else having them. They weren’t needed. Even Bokja was just considered a sport for children—not something that would actually be useful after graduation.
She'd never expected to use any of the weapons. At least, not until they
were ready to move forward with their coup. But now she was holding a knife from that room.
Her forged bracelet could strip Chances just like the real ones, but like all bracelets, it was completely useless as a defensive measure. And if she needed to defend herself in the city, she wanted something more than her bare hands.
The knife was perfect. Small enough to be easily concealed. Big enough to do some real damage. Maybe enough damage to destroy Eprah.
She sighed softly and forced her feet back under herself. Enough rest. It wasn’t like Weston was getting any breaks.
Checking her surroundings, she started forward again. Moss and fresh grass sprouted up among the loose rocks all around her, making it unclear where civilization began and ended. She picked her way through the ruins and brush, careful not to snap sticks or kick stones as she pressed on toward the city.
Only a few minutes passed before her ears picked up on distant sounds—sounds of men rather than nature. Sage ducked behind a pile of rubble off the main path and waited in silence.
Soon, heavy footsteps marched by, accompanied by masculine murmurs. Officers. Their hushed voices gave the impression they were trying to be stealthy, but they were doing a terrible job of masking their noise. She held her breath until they moved on.
This was the third group she’d hidden from. She'd never seen so many patrols outside the gates. Actually, she'd never seen any patrols outside the gate. With everything that had happened lately, she doubted it was just routine security rounds.
As it was, she was relieved they weren't used to covering their presence on nature's terrain. They relied too heavily on their bracelets and authority to ever practice stealth, and branches continued snapping under their feet. And for that, she was grateful. It made it easier for her to avoid discovery.
Besides, she was supposed to be dead. If the officers found out she was alive, she was pretty sure they wouldn’t hesitate to remedy the discrepancy.
Sage swallowed hard at the thought and looked around, trying to take her mind off the danger she was in. She’d taken shelter in the debris just outside the city, probably in what had once been someone’s home. Of course, now it was little more than a pile of rocks with a few half-standing walls. Early rays of sunlight made their way through the missing roof, spilling over her face.