“Fair point,” Franco said.
I felt Elise watching me with a frown.
“What about the decryption?” I asked. “Any progress?”
“All done!” James said.
Franco nodded. “It cracked last night. The drive just finished decrypting this morning.”
“Anything good jump out?”
“There’s a lot there,” Franco said. “It’s going to take some time to pull it into a cohesive whole, but I have a feeling we’ve got enough.”
“Enough?”
“To expose the raknoth,” Franco said. He traded an uncertain glance with James before returning to me. “What you said a few days ago, about the emergency broadcast bunkers…”
“Wait, no, that was…” I let out a chuckle. “That was a joke. They’re two of the most well-guarded structures on Enochia. You don’t just break into those things.”
Franco held my gaze evenly. “And what if you had to?”
I tried to entertain the thought and ended up shaking my head. “It’s crazy. We’d have to infiltrate Sanctuary or Haven first, either of which will be impossible with everyone already looking for us. And then, assuming we could even make it to the bunker and bypass the security protocols to start a broadcast, we’d have to hold the bunker until the broadcast was complete. At which point, there’d be the minor issue of escaping from the literal army that would have us surrounded.”
“I understand it would be difficult, but—”
“I think the word you’re looking for is impossible. Unless…”
The others all perked up.
“Unless?” Franco asked.
“Dirty secrets,” I mumbled. “Can’t go through the gate. Can’t go over the wall. Impossible. And there’s no such thing as a backdoor into Sanctuary.”
Franco leaned eagerly forward, seeing where I was going with this now. “But…”
“But there’s no such thing as the Seeker core, either.”
Franco was tapping the tabletop, lost in thought.
“You think this Seeker guy might know a way in?” Elise asked.
I shrugged and sat back, speechless, considering the implications of what we were discussing.
Franco started talking again, but I barely heard him.
Sanctuary. My home. The very fortress I’d spent my life training to one day protect. And here I was talking about infiltrating like the apostate terrorist they said I was. It felt wrong. But was that me talking, or seventeen years’ worth of tradition and duty and memories, good and bad?
I didn’t know. And I also didn’t see a better way. The raknoth had to be stopped—there was no question there. Taking them out directly wasn’t happening. Not with their twin armies between us and them. Sabotaging their blood racks and the hybrid operation would only slow them down—it wasn’t a solution.
We needed the people of Enochia behind us. We needed the Legion, removed of Kublich’s command. The raknoth might be vastly more powerful than us humans, but the might of the Legion could still prevail if we could only point them at the right target. Which all sounded great in theory. But could I really go through with attacking my own home just to try to save it?
I found myself wondering if my dad would have been willing to turn against his beloved Legion in order to see justice served.
He had put his own family in danger, hadn’t he?
The silent accusation had passed through my mind a thousand times since their deaths. But, as I sat there waiting for the familiar tide of resentment and blame, it was also the first time I also realized with conviction that he absolutely would’ve cast the Legion into the depths too if he’d truly believed it was the right thing to do.
All this time, something inside of me had been trying to blame him—to hate him, even—for getting my mom killed. For bringing us front and center into this entire mess. He must’ve realized what his actions might cost, after all. And he’d gone on anyway. He’d invited disaster.
And now, knowing everything I knew about the raknoth, I was sure I would’ve done the same.
It wasn’t his fault. And it wasn’t mine, either. But, just like him, I needed to do what was right, no matter the cost. No matter what anyone else might think. Even if it meant people who didn’t deserve it got hurt. The raknoth had to be stopped. And if there was another way, I didn’t see it.
We needed a way into Sanctuary.
“—right, Haldin?”
I snapped back to the kitchen table to see Franco, James, and Elise all watching me.
“Huh?”
“I said only one way to find out,” Franco said.
“Right.” I stood from the table, half-finished plate forgotten, as they stared quizzically at me. “Why don’t you guys see what you can dig up on that drive?”
“And you?” Franco asked.
“I think I’d better go have a chat with our new Seeker friend.”
27
Garrett
I went to find Carlisle in what they called the basement of the house. In truth, it was actually a floor above street level, tucked away behind the entryway staircase. But it lay beneath the primary quarters of the house, and they used the space rarely enough that I hadn’t even seen it yet, so, at some point, it had become “the basement.”
It was a long shot, I knew, hoping that Smirks would have some secret way to get us into Sanctuary. But, then again, who knew anymore? Demons to the wind, there could be half a dozen backdoors. They could be common knowledge to all the specters and high-ranking officers, for all I knew. After everything I’d learned about the Sanctum, the Emmútari, and the Seekers—not to mention the raknoth—I had to wonder just how many unquestionable truths in my life had in fact been lies.
Phineas was sitting outside one of the rooms beneath Franco’s study. He regarded the sling on my arm and tilted his balding head toward the door in indifferent invitation.
Inside, the room was empty but for Carlisle, sitting cross-legged on a table at the edge of the room, and Smirks, who was lashed to his chair with an amount of rope that seemed ridiculous until I remembered that, even confined by Carlisle’s cloak as he was, he might be able to work his way through any bindings that were physically touching him.
His eyes tracked my entry, cold and predatory in a way that was at creepy odds with the easy smirk on his mouth. I felt the familiar urge to wipe the look off his face. At least there was that for stability in my life. Carlisle opened his eyes and seemed to return from some distant meditation as I scooted gratefully onto the table beside him, fatigue weighing heavy from my wounds.
“How are you feeling?” he sent.
“Hurts a bit. But I’ll live.”
At second glance, I noticed he was actually wearing his own cloaking pendant, and the one around Smirk’s neck appeared to be a replacement, hastily fabricated on a polymer chip with ink runes.
“You did well out there, Hal. If I hadn’t failed to keep this… goodfellow occupied, you wouldn’t have been—”
“It’s not your fault, Carlisle.”
He looked less than convinced.
Hoping to lighten his gloom, I added, “I just need to make it back here in one piece next time or Elise might kill me herself.”
That, at least, got a little lip quirk. “Have you spoken to the others?”
I nodded. “Sounds like we might need a way into Sanctuary.”
Carlisle looked at me questioningly, but then understanding dawned. “The emergency broadcast system, again?”
I made a face. “I’d rather not claim credit for the insanity, but I might have agreed it’s our best shot once we have something to show. Think we could do it?”
“I guess we’ll have to if no one has a better idea. Franco’s probably right about needing to get the people on our side.”
Smirks was watching us like a hungry wolf, his brown eyes calculating.
“Have you learned anything from him?”
Carlisle shook his head. “Invading an unconscious or sleeping mind can be problem
atically erratic. I should be able to handle him myself now, but by the time he woke, I figured it was more sensible to be safe and wait for you. I’m starting to get a bad feeling about having delayed, though. Are you ready?”
“What’s the plan?”
“Just think of it like another one of our mental spars. I’ll do the brunt of the work this time, but you can see what it’s like to attack instead of defend.”
“Sounds safe.”
“It’ll be fine. Once we’re in, all you have to do is focus on what it is you want to know.”
“Like if he knows a quiet way into Sanctuary?”
“Precisely. Just hold the thought as steady as you can. The first time rooting in another mind can be a bit disorienting.”
I imagined that went double for violent sociopaths. The thought of willingly crawling inside Smirks’ head made me want to shudder just as much as the memory of him lounging around in mine. But I had a mission.
Carlisle hopped off the table and went to Smirks.
“Time to play?” Smirks asked.
Carlisle ignored him. “I’m guessing he’ll probably try to take your mind in the first few seconds, so brace yourself.”
I took a deep breath and drew the steel gate of my mind shut, preparing to hold against an attack. When Carlisle was satisfied, he adjusted his own cloak and plucked Smirks’ pendant from the Seeker’s neck. I half-expected Smirks to try to bite Carlisle’s hand. Instead, he waited calmly for the cloak to be removed.
As soon as it was, his mind crashed against my defenses.
I held firm. Our eyes narrowed at one another. He slammed into my gate again. He was strong, but not like Carlisle. Even holding tight against him, I had ample focus left to feel Carlisle’s mind snaking its way around Smirks’. The Seeker, however, didn’t seem to notice until it was too late.
He retreated to his own defenses, eyes widening. Anger roiled up in me, creeping in from those places in my defenses he’d sought to break, startlingly quick and hot. Anger at the pain he’d already caused me. Anger at what he stood for. Anger at all of it. My hesitations fell away. Then I formed my mind into a sharp spear and hurled it at Smirks.
I punched through his defenses like a softsteel slug through roughspun cloth.
The fact that Carlisle was squeezing in on him like a constricting serpent at the time probably helped more than a little bit, but I still wasn’t expecting to break through so smoothly. Just like I wasn’t expecting the wild flood that rushed over me when I did.
Sights and sounds whirled through my mind, punctuated by a touch here, a smell there—all of it tied up in a mash of emotion. And, riding over all of it, I saw Carlisle and myself from Smirks’ perspective. No, from Garrett’s perspective. Garrett. That was his name. I knew it like I knew my own, just like I knew his anger and his fear.
The latter gave me pause. Then I reminded myself what he was—what he’d done—and I decided with certainty that the shifty bastard was still Smirks in my book. More importantly, he had answers. As if in response to the thought, memories that weren’t my own flashed through my mind—or was it ours?—flitting from one thing to the next seemingly at random.
“Focus,” came Carlisle’s voice.
That’s right. I had to focus on what I wanted to know. And as soon I remembered that, I began to realize the fleeting glimpses of Smirks’ experiences weren’t appearing randomly but rather in response to my own thoughts, as if I were recalling my own memories.
Right, then. Sanctuary.
How would we get into Sanctuary?
“How about you try the gate?” came Smirks’ voice. “Both of you be my guests and—”
With a focused thought, I pushed his voice down, down, until it faded to a dull background buzz. I tried to keep calm. Tried to keep my focus clear over the rising irritation.
How could we get into Sanctuary, unnoticed?
Like that, we flashed to dark water. The Red Ocean, I remembered, as if I’d actually been there. A nighttime skimmer approach off the cliffs on the northwestern edge of Sanctuary. There was something there. A hidden passage. I focused more closely, and it began to unfold in rapid fire.
There was a way. A way Smirks knew by heart, with multiple access points to the Sanctuary subbasements. A way no one knew about, except the High General and a few trusted officers.
Had my dad been one of them?
Smirks didn’t know. Didn’t care. It was simply a secret between him, his fellow Seekers, their Sanctum handlers, and the High General.
He knew what Kublich was, I realized, delving deeper. But no. Not the entirety of it. He knew that Kublich was a vastly powerful telepath. Suspected that he might be something more, something darker. It frightened him. But not enough to stop. Not after a lifetime of slavery to the Sanctum. Not after the toil and the torture, the years of faithful service that had never once earned him anything other than the Sanctum’s resentment and a loaded gun aimed at his back.
He was trapped. They all were. And Kublich was their salvation.
Kublich, and Kublich’s master.
Smirks didn’t know who the man was. Didn’t know how Kublich and his shadowy co-conspirators had managed to avoid detection while ascending to such positions of power. Barely cared. Probably, they’d simply infiltrated the Sanctum first. The Sanctum controlled the Seekers. Who else would even be able to tell?
No, the only thing that shook Smirks at all was the human experiments—those garish super soldiers Kublich and his allies had created to aid their kind in the coming war. But that hardly mattered either. All that really mattered was what Kublich and his master had promised to those Seekers wise enough to join them.
A proper place in the new world, free from fear and condemnation.
“You won’t stop us,” Smirks growled. “You or that damned wild hound you call a master. This planet has trampled us underfoot long enough.”
I wanted to laugh. To hit him. To scream at him for falling so completely into whatever bullscud story the raknoth had clearly sold him. Most of all, I needed to know who this shadowy master was. But something had sent a twinge of alarm through me—a snippet of a thought that was gone before I could even process it.
What had it been?
Nothing but defensive silence from Smirks. I started retracing my steps until it hit me like a bursting dam.
The hybrids. Smirks’ so-called super soldiers.
A few of them had been out there last night, searching for us, scenting from the shadows while the Seekers and their Sanctum Guard made their rounds. Their noses were preternaturally keen, and they still had our scents from the labs. Just like they still had Smirks’ scent.
Raw excitement was radiating from the Seeker now, bordering on hysterical.
They would have swept the aftermath of our fight, caught our scents. Smirks was sure of it. They would lead his allies here. They would be coming for us.
I tore out of Smirks’ mind, back into my own body, and locked eyes with Carlisle, who looked to have just returned himself. I saw my horror reflected in his eyes.
“They’re coming!” I said.
“That’s right, you gropping steel sippers,” Smirks snarled. “Let’s see how you bastards do against—”
Carlisle slammed his elbow into the side of Smirks’ head, and the Seeker slumped in the chair like his strings had been cut. For a moment, there was silence.
Then, outside, the soft but insistent alarm chime began, unmistakable in its message.
Carlisle looked at me, pale eyes bleak.
“They’re here.”
28
Trapped
We were gropped, good and proper.
That was all I could think as I lumbered up the stairs after Carlisle and Phineas, the chime of the house’s alarm taunting me each step of the way.
How many were out there?
How in demon’s depths was I supposed to fight with my arm in this confounded sling?
The stairs alone left me panting, sharp p
ains pulsing from my wounds, driving a hot, sickly ache through my right side.
For now, I gritted my teeth and followed the others left at the top of the stairs. We nearly plowed into James when he came flying around the corner, fumbling assault weapons and a worn leather pack.
He skidded across the carpet like a children’s toon character, paused for a shocked moment, then tossed one of the rifles to Phineas and handed the pack to Carlisle. “Load up, guys. We’ve got big trouble.”
Carlisle checked the pack and handed me two energy cells, which I tucked away in my trouser pockets.
“Thought you guys might need the juice,” James said.
“Good call,” Carlisle said, slinging the rest of the pack over his shoulder. “Where are the others?”
“Elise is in security.” James jutted his chin in the other direction. “I’m going to get Franco right n—”
An explosion shook the house, unmistakably from the direction James had just indicated.
We all exchanged a stunned look.
“Dammit,” Carlisle muttered. “Let’s go, then. Not you, Hal,” he added as I stepped to join them.
I started to protest, but Carlisle silenced me with a hard stare.
“Get Elise below,” Phineas rumbled.
“We’ll get Franco and join you,” Carlisle added.
“But I c—”
“You’re in no shape, Hal.” Carlisle’s face was stern and weary. “Protect Elise. If we don’t make it back in two minutes, get yourselves out of here.”
“Carlisle, I…” There wasn’t time to fuss or argue. “Just please come back.”
Carlisle squeezed my good shoulder and went to join Phineas and James, who were already sweeping down the hallway, weapons raised.
I watched them go, then hurried around the corner and down the hall to the security room across from Elise’s bedroom. Compared to the rest of the house, it was bare bones—nothing but a couple desks, several security camera displays, and Franco’s rather respectable armory.
Elise was alone in the room, studying the camera feeds with dull shock written on her face.
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