“It’s the smoke. I don’t think it’s chemicals burning. I think it’s rhondarite.”
Rhondarite? No wonder the haze had made me feel queasy before! None of us had considered the possibility that rhondarite could burn, and maybe it couldn’t, in an ordinary fire. But we’d made a Firestarter fire, which was a lot hotter.
“Can you use your ability at all?” I asked.
“It isn’t gone, but I can’t control it as well as normal, and I can’t hold back the wind. Also,” he added, “I’m not sure I can fly us out of here.”
And that, I knew, was what was truly worrying him: the notion that he might not be able to get me out of the center the way we’d planned, the prospect of somehow failing me. Connor. As if you ever could.
“So we don’t fly,” I told him. “We walk, we run — it doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”
The two of us began to slither backward down the roof. We hadn’t even made it halfway when Belle Willis shouted, “Chief Administrator Neville Rose, in the name of the Balance, I am relieving you of command of this center.”
Connor groaned. “She’s going to get herself killed!”
We scrambled back up and saw that Willis was striding toward Neville, her head and shoulders thrown back like a warrior going to battle. The woman’s gone crazy. Although she hadn’t, not quite. She must have read the shocked horror and bewilderment of the crowd, just as I had, and understood how vulnerable they were. That, in addition to the lack of enforcers among them, had clearly made her think that she had an opportunity to seize control.
I knew she’d underestimated Neville Rose.
Willis came to a halt in front of Neville, but the wily Chief Administrator refused to respond to her aggressive posture with anger of his own. He shook his head reprovingly and spoke in a clear, carrying voice. “Belle, you have no power to relieve me of command, and you know it. I fear you are somewhat overwrought. Let’s get you evacuated to Cambergull, and we’ll forget all about this, shall we?”
Some of the anxiety among the people below evaporated as they reacted to his familiar, soothing tones. From up here, I could spot all the small movements that showed their trust in him — the way heads turned toward the sound of his voice and bodies repositioned themselves to angle in his direction. I silently urged Willis to see what I saw and to let it alone. Duoro came charging over to her side, gesturing to the grasslands and calling to the crowd, “You all witnessed what happened to those children. Ask yourselves, what was it that made them so terrified that they chose to run into such danger? What has been happening in this place?”
I bit back a scream of frustration, furious Duoro would even hint at wrongdoing in the center before the Inspectorate was safely away.
Neville drew himself up in righteous indignation. “It is outrageous to imply that I had anything to do with the tragic deaths of those children. I fear you have overstepped your authority here, Mr. Duoro.” He spun on his heels, pointing to some administrators. “You, you, and you — come here. I must ask you to watch over the Inspectorate until I can report their misconduct to the appropriate authorities.”
He’s suspicious. Or maybe he was simply reacting to the events of the night, wanting to stop things from spiraling out of his control further than they already had. Either way, Duoro and Willis were in serious trouble. Connor and I exchanged despairing glances, and I tried to think of something that might help us fix the situation. There didn’t seem to be any way for me to intervene, or Connor, either, not without a blatant use of his ability that would expose the presence of Illegals in the area, which was the last thing we wanted. There seemed to be nothing left to do, no paths left to take. Until a new voice rang out: “Chief Administrator, there’s no need for this.”
Everybody looked at Rae Wentworth, who was standing on the rocky earth where she’d been kneeling before. “Surely,” she continued briskly, “you can see that these people are traumatized? I’m quite certain they hardly know what they’re saying. They need treatment.”
Willis and Duoro both protested that they were perfectly fine. But the three administrators came to an uncertain halt, and Neville was quiet, seeming to be considering Wentworth’s words. It didn’t take a genius to realize that he’d love to attribute any accusations the Inspectorate made to being the result of shock. On the other hand, he’d seen Wentworth come out of the center with Grey, so he was probably suspicious of her as well. Except, I thought with rising excitement, he can’t possibly be suspicious enough. Because he had no idea what she could do with her ability.
I’d thought that I was out of options. But I wasn’t out of allies.
“I believe,” Neville said, a hint of smugness in his voice, “that you’re right, Doctor. Perhaps this is a matter for the medical staff.”
This time it was Connor who reached for my hand as Wentworth approached the Chief Administrator. We both knew she was the Inspectorate’s best chance, and I hoped she understood that she couldn’t shield them from Neville simply by making them her patients. Had she grasped how much of a monster he was? Willis and Duoro were in as much danger from Neville now as I’d been from Miriam Grey when she’d pointed a weapon at my head. Don’t be fooled again, Rae. . . .
I leaned forward for a better view as Wentworth strode toward the Inspectorate. She grasped Neville’s arm as she brushed past him, just for an instant, before hurrying on. She got one pace away from him. Two . . .
Neville staggered, and collapsed.
People cried out, and Wentworth swung around with an artistic gasp, leaping to half catch the Chief Administrator as he toppled over. I was filled with a wild joy at the sight of him falling, even though I knew he was sleeping. I’d never expected to see Neville defeated, at least not tonight, and I was surprised by how much it meant to me.
“You see, Neville?” I whispered in a raw, angry snarl. “I carry my friends with me, you bastard.”
Connor tore his hand from mine to fling his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him. I pressed my face into his shirt, feeling shaky and on the verge of tears.
Below us, there was a moment’s tense silence. Then Jeremy Duoro roared, “The Chief Administrator has been struck down by the Balance!”
I choked back an astonished giggle. What utter nonsense! But when I stared down at what was happening, I saw that no one seemed to think that it was nonsense. Neville’s mysterious collapse, following everything else that had happened tonight, seemed to have left them all willing to believe almost anything. Frightened murmurs rose up, a hubbub of anxiety and confusion. And Belle Willis seized her moment.
“We have all been given a message today,” she shouted, her powerful voice rolling out across the yard. “The Balance has spoken, and it has spoken to us. There are monstrous things happening inside that center. But we have a chance to put them right. Who among you will help me?”
Wentworth responded instantly, yelling, “I will!”
Others followed her lead, a bit slowly at first, and then faster and faster —“I will!” “I will!” “I will!” The three administrators Neville had sent after the Inspectorate joined in the shouting, too, attempting to mingle with the larger group. Everyone else edged away, leaving them standing in empty circles of space. The whole scene suddenly struck me as hilarious, and I began to laugh. Connor did, too, and pretty soon we were both almost hysterical with mirth, clinging to each other and trying not to make too much noise.
Belle Willis began to issue orders to her newly converted followers, and Connor whispered against my ear, “I think that we can leave now.”
I smothered another giggle. “I think we can, too!”
We slid back down the roof for the second and final time and floated unsteadily to the ground. I retrieved the box, and the two of us began to run, even faster than we had before. The smoke was making me dizzy and ill, but I didn’t slacken my pace, and neither did Connor. On we went until we reached the southern side of the center. He sprinted up the stairs that led to the walkway on the top of the boun
dary wall, and I followed a step behind. Catching my breath, I leaned on the edge. There were floodlights here, too, and I mentally traced our route — across the bare ground that surrounded the center, into the trees, and then right. If we kept going, we’d eventually come to the road to Cambergull. Once we were over it, there was only a bit more forest before we reached the grasslands and, beyond that, the Firstwood. I’m coming home, my tuarts.
“So what now?” I asked Connor. “Float down the wall and then run?”
He was staring down at the ground, and I knew he was imagining how visible we’d be, running across that long distance in the glare of the lights. “We’ll be fine. There’s no one here to see us,” I assured him.
He shook his head. “Things keep going wrong. And I don’t want to take any more risks. Not with you.”
“It’s not that big a risk! And your ability . . .”
“I can handle my ability. We have to fly, Ashala. Just until we’re over the gravel and into the cover of the trees.”
I wanted to ask if he was sure he’d be able to do it, but that would sound like I doubted him, and I didn’t. In fact, I didn’t really think that there was anything Connor couldn’t do. Taking a tighter grip on the box, I said, “Okay. We fly.”
He grinned at me. And then I was pulled off my feet and flung into the sky at his side.
I went hurtling through the air so fast that it felt like the skin was being pushed back from my bones. I clung onto the box as the two of us careered onward, weaving shakily from side to side as we left the gravelly, floodlit earth behind. We plunged over the forest and slowed, beginning to descend.
Zap! Something bright and hot streaked upward through the night.
Suddenly I was falling, faster and faster, as if the air itself were trying to drag me down. I couldn’t see Connor, couldn’t see anything except brief, frightening impressions of the world as I tumbled through the trees. Small branches scratched and tore at me, but I somehow managed to miss the large ones, which could have really done some damage. I stopped right before hitting the ground and floated down to rest among the leaves, still clutching the box. I had an instant to realize that there’d been some sort of danger and that Connor had saved my life.
Then he came crashing through the trees to slam into the ground, and I heard the terrible sound of his body breaking.
I stumbled over to his side. “Connor? Connor?” Dropping to my knees, I felt for a pulse at his neck. But his heartbeat was weak and erratic, and when he took a breath, I could hear a dreadful rattling sound. I was gasping for air myself, and I didn’t know if it was his pain or my own that I was feeling. In the dark, I couldn’t see exactly where he was hurt, but it was obvious that it was bad. He spoke a single word: “Ashala.”
And, for the first time, I heard what Ember heard, when he said my name. The way he drew it out, over three syllables, two short and one long. Ashala. A-shay-la. I love you.
Tears started to leak from my eyes. “Connor, I’ll go get Wentworth and bring her here. You have to hang on. . . .”
“No, Ashala.” His hand twitched, and I clasped it in mine as he rasped, “Shot.”
Shot? That made no sense — there’d been something in the sky, but it had come from the forest, not the center! Footsteps came rushing through the trees in our direction. I looked up in alarm and let out a cry of joy at the sight of red medical robes. A doctor, or a nurse! “Help!” I called. “Please, we —” But the words died on my lips as the blond figure came closer, and I took in the weapon held steadily in his hand. I couldn’t make out the details of his face in the gloom, but I didn’t need to.
It was Evan, Briony’s enforcer.
We hadn’t been shot at from the center. We’d been shot at from the trees, where Evan had been . . . hiding? Running? I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. The important thing was that I had to get away so I could find Wentworth and save Connor’s life.
“You.” Evan said with loathing, stopping a few paces away. “I knew it was you.”
Swallowing, I stared up at him. I still had one hand on the pulse in Connor’s neck, and I was frantically aware of his stuttering heartbeat as I tried to figure out what to do. Then I remembered that I’d taken a streaker from the center. Which pocket had it been in? WHICH POCKET? I began to feel for it, doing my best to seem as though I was just shifting in place.
“You’re alive,” Evan hissed, “and you’re escaping. Going back to your Firstwood, are you? Do you know she died? Do you even care?”
It wasn’t in the left-hand pocket, which meant I had to search the right. I answered quickly. “Of course I care —”
“Don’t lie to me!” His hand was starting to tremble, and I shut up, recognizing the high, jagged edge of instability in his voice. This was the second time tonight I’d had a weapon pointed at me by someone less than sane, and Wentworth wasn’t here to help this time. No one was, and Connor was relying on me, and the streaker wasn’t in my other pocket! Oblivious to my panic, Evan snapped, “You didn’t care. I was the one who cared about her.”
Is that what you told him, Bry? “I did care,” I said. “Briony was one of my Tribe, and I care about them all.” Meanwhile, my eyes searched the area around me, because the weapon had to have fallen out when I descended.
Evan took a step closer. “Then, why wouldn’t you help her? All you had to do was cooperate, do one tiny thing, and he would have let her go. But no, you were too proud, too stubborn, to bother trying to save her.”
Neville never would have given her an Exemption! Only I didn’t bother saying it out loud. Because something had happened that made Evan insignificant.
The heartbeat beneath my fingers had stopped.
I turned my head, dreading what I would see, and found myself staring into those beautiful blue eyes, the ones that could flash with lightning rage or sparkle like light over water. The ones that gazed at me as if I were all that mattered and all that would ever matter. They were wide open, but I knew he’d never really look at me again.
Connor was dead.
The entire world shifted, breaking apart and leaving me falling into nothingness. Evan didn’t seem to notice. He was still ranting. “You were willing to let her suffer. You were willing to let her die! Maybe I’ll kill you, the way they killed her.”
He paused, clearly expecting me to say something, to beg for my life maybe. I just sat there. Couldn’t he see that it wasn’t important what happened to me now? After a moment, he realized something was wrong. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, hoarse and hesitant, as if I didn’t quite know how to use it anymore.
Evan continued excitedly. “And he’s an Illegal. It was him that was flying, not you. Neville’s golden boy, an Illegal! And you — you cared for him.” A grin split his features. “It hurts, doesn’t it, to lose him? Tell me that it hurts.”
Oh, yes, it hurts. Something hot and savage bloomed in my chest, spreading until my entire body felt like it was on fire with rage and hate and the overwhelming desire to strike back. “She. Didn’t. Love. You.”
He scowled. “You didn’t know her.”
I laughed at that, a crazy, angry laugh that splintered at the edges. “I didn’t know her? She was using you, the same way she used everyone to get what she wanted.”
“She didn’t. She wasn’t.” I could hear the note of doubt in his voice, and my lip curled up in triumph. He wasn’t sure if she’d loved him, although he longed to believe that she had. I had a way to get to him now.
I rose. He jabbed the streaker in my direction but didn’t fire it, and anyway, I wasn’t afraid of it anymore. Everything was becoming very strange — the world was going all fluid, seeming to melt into a new, strange version of itself. I thought I was probably dying. It seemed only right that this was the one loss I could not survive. And I wanted to use the time I had left to inflict pain on Evan, the way he’d inflicted it on me.
“Briony told me about yo
u, Evan,” I lied. “How you used to follow her around when you were both kids. She said you were like an ugly dog that she couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard she tried. She laughed at you.”
“She didn’t! That isn’t true!”
The shapes were extending outward now, the entire world morphing weirdly, but I kept my focus on him. “You remember her laugh? How pretty it was, like her smile? You kept her amused for hours. She could barely speak your name without giggling.”
“She did not.” He raised the weapon, aiming it straight at my heart, and said coldly, “You tell me the truth, or I will kill you.”
“I am telling the truth. So go ahead and shoot.” Except he didn’t, and I knew why. He wanted to hear me take it back, to say it was all lies. I never would. He’d taken Connor from me, and I wanted him to pay for it.
The pieces of the world that hadn’t yet transformed started to dissolve. Everything around me seemed to be turning into symbols of themselves in a way that was oddly familiar. Had this happened to me before? I thought somehow that it had, that there’d once been another time when grief and anger had thrown me into this strange state of being.
Evan whispered, “Your eyes . . .”
My surroundings disappeared for an instant before winking back into being. I was standing in a forest of metal, one where the trees were all shining shapes and glinting edges, and I wasn’t dead after all. Because I knew, with total certainty, that I was asleep. More than that, I knew I was dreaming.
And, in my dreams, I could do whatever I wanted.
There was a man in my forest, one who had blood-red skin and a box of lightning in his hand. He thrust the box toward me, and a bolt came flying out. I dived to the side. I’d intended to move fast, far too fast for even lightning to catch me, because I could be as quick as I liked in my own dream. Only something was wrong. My body was sluggish and clumsy, and the lightning skimmed across my shoulder, leaving searing pain in its wake.
With a roar, I grabbed hold of the red man’s arm, struggling with him for the box. I wanted to tear it from his grasp, except I wasn’t strong enough, even though I knew I should be. There was poison in my body, some kind of foreign substance running through my veins and interfering with my power. Had the red man given me the poison? I didn’t think so. It didn’t matter anyway, because he’d done something terrible, and although I didn’t remember exactly what, I was going to punish him for it. That was why I was here, and I’d do what I came to do or die trying.
The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf (The Tribe) Page 21