by Lori M. Lee
I didn’t care about that. Reev looked right at me, but there was no sign of life in his face. His eyes were as empty as the sentinel’s in the cafeteria.
The bell for the match sounded. I started forward again.
“Wait,” I said, hands outstretched. Then I gasped and ducked. Reev’s knuckles grazed my jaw.
He advanced, his expression cool and focused—but not on me. Only on the match, the attack. I was nothing but his opponent.
“Reev.” I didn’t care that my voice wavered and broke. I blocked another punch, but the blow vibrated down my arms. I fell back with a cry.
Reev didn’t let up. I knew his moves. I knew how to dodge and to deflect his strength. Reev had taught me all this. But he didn’t remember.
I had to make him remember.
I blocked a kick, grunting as the impact jarred my shoulders, and then I struck hard. My fist connected with his jaw. It felt like punching a wall. My knuckles throbbed. Reev slowed for barely an instant.
He was faster than when we used to spar. Either Ninu had made him faster or he had held back with me. But he wasn’t holding back now. His foot kicked my chest. The air rushed from my lungs as I fell. Pain again as I hit the ground and skidded across the arena floor, no breath left even to cry out. The dirt scraped my cheek and hands. Everything ached. The ground swam in front of me. I rolled onto my back, gasping as yellow blobs floated overhead. I blinked, making out the clouds. Air finally filled my chest.
Dust burned my eyes and settled in a bitter film on my tongue. This isn’t happening. I rose to my elbows, groaning.
Reev stalked toward the stands and reached into an empty seat. He withdrew a sword with a silvery blade.
“That’s illegal!”
“Hey! Stop the match!”
I could hardly hear Tariza and Grene shouting behind me. My awareness had narrowed on Reev, moving closer, raising the blade at his side. Sentinels aimed for a clean strike. Mason had said so.
“Reev,” I whispered. “Stop.” This couldn’t be right. I had just talked to him last night. No. No no no.” We had a plan. Don’t you remember?” What should I do? I don’t know what to do.
“Get up! Kai, get the drek up!”
Avan’s voice jolted through me. I scrambled backward, my palms sliding against the dirt. The scrapes stung. I glanced toward my boot where the knife was hidden, but every instinct I possessed repelled the very thought of reaching for it, of using it against Reev.
Reev didn’t hesitate, though. He followed me and swung his blade.
I threw my mind against the threads. Time crawled nearly to a stop. This close, his eyes were clearly visible. They were hollow. Devoid of emotion or thought. He intended to kill me. No one rushed onto the arena floor to stop him—not the announcer or the other sentinels. This had been planned.
I blinked away tears. I only wanted to save him. Everything I had done had been for Reev.
And, if I was honest, maybe a little for myself, because I didn’t know how to be without him. It was pathetic, a seventeen-year-old girl this scared to be alone. Even now, with his blade blurring the air in slowed time, I couldn’t give up. I had to believe in Reev, I had to—
Time snapped forward. I flinched, watching Reev’s face. With time speeded up, this would be quick.
Reev’s blade flashed, followed by a streak of movement. A ruffle of black tunic. A spray of red. A cloud of raised dust.
Time adjusted itself. I stared up at a broad back. Avan knelt in front of me, his head bowed. Blood spread out around him in a crimson fan. Then he slumped to the side and hit the dirt with a thud that echoed in my chest.
CHAPTER 33
“AVAN!” I SCRAMBLED to my knees and gingerly rolled him onto his back. His body was limp. “Avan.”
There was so much blood. He looked pale. Ashen. Why wasn’t he healing?
“Wake up, Avan. Come on, please, please, wake up.” Heal, damn it! Why won’t you heal?
Because healing wouldn’t work after he was already—
I searched frantically for the medic, but no one had stepped forward to help. What was wrong with everyone? Two sentinels led Reev out of the arena. I couldn’t breathe.
Tariza and Grene were trapped halfway over the box’s barrier. More sentinels had appeared to block their way and herd them out of the arena.
Avan drew a shuddering breath. I almost fell over. He wasn’t dead. I brushed the hair from his temple. His skin was warm. A line had appeared between his brows, his lashes fluttering as he tried to open his eyes.
“Don’t move,” I said, my hands hovering over his chest. I didn’t know where to touch him without hurting him. “Don’t—”
I realized his chest was no longer bloody. As I watched, bone, muscle, and skin knitted back together beneath the gaping hole left in his tunic. Nothing remained but smooth skin, marred only by the ragged black branches of his tattoo.
I gave him a bewildered look. Could all descendants heal like that? From a wound that would have killed anyone else? A wound that, for a moment there, had killed him?
He wouldn’t meet my eyes. He rolled away from me and stood. I watched him, my mouth agape.
“What the drek?” I said, louder than I intended. Avan reached over and pulled me up. He smoothed dust off my cheeks. I shook away his touch. Pain flashed in his eyes at my rejection.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said.
“What just happened?” I couldn’t stop staring at his chest. The tear in his bloodstained tunic and my pulse pounding in my ears were the only evidence he had been wounded.
“But I think an explanation will have to wait.”
More sentinels had surrounded us. I whirled around, backing up against Avan’s side. His hand clasped mine and squeezed.
“You’re not dead,” I whispered, focusing on that truth. I pressed against him.
“I’m not dead.”
“Stay that way.”
He swept his thumb along my knuckles. “You got it.”
They flanked us through the halls. Cadets stared as we passed. Grene and Tariza were nowhere to be seen. I hoped they wouldn’t be punished just because we were assigned as their teammates.
I clutched Avan’s hand as tightly as I could as we descended a hidden flight of stairs. The sentinels moved with the same liquid grace as Mason’s, passing over the polished stone steps with a whisper. At the bottom of the stairs, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me to the left. Avan was pulled to the right.
Our linked hands broke apart. Avan nodded at me reassuringly and then turned away.
A sentinel took me through a small room that connected to a cell. The cell was square, with white walls and a vent in the corner. A candle burned in a simple metal fixture on the wall, the flame trembling as the door shut behind me. The room was empty except for a cot that, while small, took up nearly an entire wall.
I sat, pulling my knees to my chest. I wasn’t sure what to worry about first. Where had they taken Reev? And what about Avan? What would they do to him now that they’d seen his healing ability? Would they take him to the Kahl and brand him with a collar?
A tremor raced through me, and I curled up tighter.
The cot was clean. I had expected something less hospitable. Their prison was nicer than my room in the Labyrinth.
I thought I understood what had happened with Reev. Mason had said the collar connected the sentinels to Kahl Ninu. Disobedience was rare. Reev had been lying last night. Cleansing hadn’t just begun; it was complete. Reev had played me.
I had lost him.
I dropped my forehead against my knees and squeezed my eyes shut. I wouldn’t cry. This room had to be monitored. I wouldn’t let them hear me cry.
Behind my closed lids, I saw the moment in the arena again. The blur of movement as Avan threw himself in front of Reev’s blade. His body, bloody and broken, slumped at my feet. My hands shook, and I curled them into fists. I dug my nails into my palms until the pain drove away the tremor
s.
Shame burned my throat. Avan had saved me, and here I was feeling sorry for myself.
Could mahjo really cheat death? Maybe that was how they survived the branding. Whatever the reason, I had to save Avan. I wasn’t going to lose him, too.
For a while, I paced my cell. But then fatigue set in, and I laid down to stare at the perfect blankness of the wall. A dirty cell would have given me some stains or cracks to look at. This was a white nightmare, broken only by the shadows from the candle.
A knock jolted my eyes open. When did I fall asleep? On the door, a narrow strip at eye level slid to the side, and the white door went as clear as glass. I startled and rose from the cot. Beyond was the second room, larger than this one, which connected to my cell and the door that led into the hall.
Reev stood in the next room. Looking at him hurt, but looking away would hurt more. Please, I thought, even though I knew it was useless.
Next to him was a young woman. She slouched in a wooden chair, her stocking-covered legs crossed at the ankles.
She watched me with black eyes like drops of tar. I approached the space where the door should have been and reached out a tentative hand. My palm hit the door, solid but invisible, and I drew my hand back.
“Reev,” I said, willing him to look at me. He didn’t. His expression remained as blank as the walls of my cell. I resisted the urge to slam my knuckles against the door.
“Kai.” The woman had a soft voice, almost childlike. With her frilly pink-and-white dress and lacy stockings, she looked like a doll.
She twirled a slim finger through one of her pretty curls. Her hair was garishly red. I thought of Avan’s bloody chest in the arena. I shook my head to erase the image.
“Can I ask about your powers? They’re pretty amazing,” she said.
I didn’t think they were nearly as interesting as Avan rising from the dead. “Where’s Avan?”
“He’s being taken care of.” Her black eyes gleamed. Her age was difficult to place. She could’ve been a child or a hundred years old. “Please. Tell me about your powers. Where did you learn to do that?”
I ignored her. Instead, I watched Reev, cataloging the changes in him. His trimmed hair—he’d only grown it out to hide his collar. His eyes, vacant but still that shining gray as familiar to me as my name. He stood immobile, as if he waited for a command.
The woman-child glanced up at Reev and then to me again. “R-22 is your adopted brother, isn’t that right? We sifted through his memories, but they were incomplete, spans of time missing. Not just locked away but erased completely. It was a very precise job.”
I sank onto the cot and folded my hands in my lap. I had nothing to say to her. Despite my curiosity, I had never pried into Reev’s past. How dare they rummage through his memories as if he was nothing but a history text?
“Seeing as you got into the Tournament unnoticed, I imagine you’ve met my wayward brother,” she continued. “He likes to call himself the Black Rider. For old time’s sake, I guess. It’s what the humans once called him, when they still worshipped us.”
I looked at her more closely. “Are you Ninu?”
I thought the Kahl was a man. That was how it had been taught in school.
She laughed, as if she was talking to a friend. “No way. I’m Istar. The humans knew me as Strife, and they used to pray to me in times of war.” She breathed the words like a sigh, or a fond memory. “Now they’ve all forgotten. Guess I miss the old days, too.”
CHAPTER 34
ISTAR. IRRA HADN’T mentioned her.
“How many of you are there?” I asked. Talking to her through the clear door felt odd, like talking through a closed window, even though I could hear her well enough through the slit. The way she talked, she sounded as if she could’ve been one of the girls from school. Was she doing that especially for my benefit?
“Too few, if you ask me.” She studied her nails, which had been painted pink with little white hearts on them. “But if you see Peace around, ask him if he’s bored enough yet to come and visit.”
I sincerely hoped not to come across any more of them, even if he was named Peace. “Is he in Ninurta, too?”
“Not for ages, as far as I know.” She sighed again wistfully. “But you never can be sure who might be lurking around.” She flashed straight, white teeth.
I looked at Reev, who had yet to move. “What are you going to do to Reev?”
There had to be a reason she’d brought him with her. Intimidation or leverage or something else to force my cooperation with whatever they wanted from me.
“R-22 is insignificant. He was a missing puzzle piece, now recovered.” She sounded annoyed. “His entire team was like a disobedient anim— Ah!”
Her face brightened. Her abrupt mood shifts were jarring, but after having spent time with Irra, I figured this was another quirk of the Infinite. She fingered the lace at the bottom of her dress, which was short and layered underneath with starched petticoats. The outfit looked like something the girls in the North District might wear: an odd mixture of allure and innocence.
“You don’t know?” She clapped her hands excitedly. Red curls bounced around her puffed sleeves. “I love a good story. You should hear the ones they used to tell about me.” She closed her eyes, smiling dreamily.
“What story?” I prompted.
She sat up straight. “Your brother’s, of course. The leader of his team was the only sentinel in Ninurta’s history to overcome his collar’s enchantments and disobey commands. As you can imagine, it was very troublesome.”
I hoped he had given them hell.
“The other two in his team began to disobey orders as well. But, of course, they couldn’t sever the collar’s connection to Ninu, so do you know what the leader did?” She thrust her lips into a pout. “He dared to break into Ninu’s private chambers and attempt to kill him.” Her pout stretched into a feral grin. “But he was caught. Do you know what Ninu did then?”
I could imagine. When I didn’t answer, she continued.
“He created a new collar. One that purifies the mind of all thought and knowledge, leaving a perfect shell for Ninu to refill. R-22 and the third member of their team were also meant to be purified as soon as they returned from a mission. But R-22 never came back, and his link to Ninu was broken by someone on the outside. Very few have the ability to tamper with Ninu’s collar and not kill its wearer.”
“The Infinite,” I said. In spite of everything, I wanted to know more. Reev had gone through so much so young. What happened to his real family when he was taken? And who helped Reev to escape?
Istar said spans of time had been erased from Reev’s memory. Whoever had broken his leash for him had wanted to remain anonymous.
I dug my knuckles into my stomach. Too many questions.
“So Irra told you that. And here I was hoping to give you another story.” She slumped dramatically and then jerked upright again, eyes widening. “Oops. Time’s up. Ninu wants to meet with you later.” She stood, smoothing down her dress over the petticoats. “And when you see him, you’ll give him all the information you have about Irra and your powers.”
She twirled away. Reev turned to follow her. Watching him leave, again, fractured something in my chest. I had to bite my lip to keep from calling out for him.
Because I knew she wanted me to ask, and because I had to know, I said, “Or what?”
She glanced back. She looked delighted. “You’ll be happy to know that R-22 is still intact. Ninu put up a very specific wall in his mind. It allows only certain knowledge and thoughts through while blocking everything else.” She thrust one slender finger up in the air. “But if you don’t cooperate, then R-22 will be sent for immediate purification.”
Istar hadn’t said when Ninu wanted to meet with me, so I went back to staring at the wall. The door had gone opaque again, but the slit remained open. Unfortunately, there was nothing to look at or listen to other than the sound of my own breathing. Enough time ha
d passed that I’d grown hungry again, but I didn’t think a meal would be coming, so I ignored the ache. It wasn’t all that hard. I had a lot of practice.
Despite Istar’s threat, her words had put my mind and heart at ease. Reev was still in there. If I could only get him out of Ninurta, then Irra could help him.
If Irra even let us back in. My capture meant that the Kahl knew Irra had the means of sneaking people into the White Court. Kahl Ninu would probably do exactly what Irra had said: strengthen and restructure his security and weed out the spies. All the information Irra and his hollows had worked to gain would be meaningless.
I pushed aside the guilt. First, I had to figure out how to escape.
At some point, I fell asleep again. I hovered at the edge of a dream when a groan jarred me awake. I looked around, but I was still alone. My eyes fell on the slit in the door.
I heard a hiss of pain, a low groan, and then a hoarse laugh and a familiar voice. “Heh. Is that all you’ve got? Keep tr—nng.”
“Avan,” I breathed. I leaped off the cot and slammed my fists against the door. “Avan!”
Through the slit, I could see that the door to the hallway had been left ajar.
Avan made a strangled sound. “Kai? Drek. Don’t listen. Don’t—” His voice ended on a groan.
Oh God. “Stop!” My shout rang in my ears.
I kicked and pounded the door until every bone and muscle felt bruised. Avan had grown quieter, but I could still hear him. I felt his broken breaths snag in my own throat, his gasps like a knife in my ribs. I sank to my knees, forehead against the door, fingers digging into the unforgiving metal.
It went on for what felt like forever. He kept trying to tell me he was fine.
Please. Please stop. Tears scalded my cheeks. I covered my mouth before any sounds could escape. Hearing me cry would hurt him more.
“Stop,” I whispered.
The sound of a door shutting made me flinch. Avan’s ragged breaths fell silent. I scrambled to my feet, squinting through the slit. Someone had closed the entrance to the hallway. I collapsed against my door, sliding to the ground. I held my breath, straining to hear, but there was nothing.