by Logan Keys
My feet touch down, and I rasp out, “Against.”
The next time I land: “All.”
And the last time, before the world goes black: “Authority.”
Chapter Sixty-One
Dallas
This time, Toby was ready for them, just as I suspected. He and his men stormed the gate, loosing arrows in rapid succession—one line firing, then the next, and the next. Even if the vampires didn’t take one in the heart, they were gravely wounded by the wood.
Amazing to watch, for once, the retreat of the creatures, rather than us fighting and bleeding, and then burning our own.
Tonight, I’d burn Toby’s men with ease, and by the end of the battle, we’d lost no more. Hard not to be happy.
The town celebrated after the brief but victorious battle, while Cara and I hid in our rooms again, not trusting the men. Good thing we didn’t, for in the morning, Henry came hobbling to us, bleeding, with a bump on the head.
“Dallas!” he yells. “Come help us! They’ve taken Lotte, and they mean to kill her!”
Chapter Sixty-Two
Dallas
“Toby Kendrick!”
I storm through the town with my shotgun pointed at the sky and Cara not far behind me. When I get to the center where all of the action is, I fire it twice.
The crowd wheels around, and I march forward, aiming at Toby. He’s standing where we’d burned the others, and Lotte’s there tied to a stake.
I look at her, confused, but a gag’s in her mouth.
“Well, well, here she is. Miss Dallas in the flesh!”
“What are you doing, Toby?
“It’s actually King Toby now.” He licks his lips around a wolfish grin, leering at me until his men laugh. “Take her gun.”
We’re outnumbered, so I let them wrest away our weapons.
“Give it here, witch.”
One of his men shoves me.
Toby jumps down and grabs him by the collar. “Watch your tongue, Carl, before I have it cut from your head. That’s my queen you’re talking to.” He makes a wide gesture toward me, and this gets more laughs.
They pull Cara’s arms behind her back, and she’s already crying, terrified. She knows what this means.
“What are you doing with Lotte?” I ask.
“Well now, she’s the real witch, isn’t she? And what do we do with witches?”
“Burn them!” the crowd yells.
“That’s right!”
“Toby,” I say quietly, “don’t do this.”
“Why not? I like the outfit, by the way.” Toby rubs his knuckles across my vest. “Blood cleans off leather so nice, yeah? You gonna let me see what’s underneath, what’s new there, too?”
“I thought you said you wouldn’t.”
I hate the fear in my voice and the joy in his eyes when he notices. “You’re right,” he says. “Absolutely. I won’t take it from you, because that’s no fun. I’m a man of my word, am I not? You’d better believe it.” He cleans under his nails with his knife. “But,” he adds with a wink, “if you were to offer…”
When I say nothing, he straightens. “Burn her.”
They move toward Lotte with a torch.
Beneath my lids, tears well, hot and unwanted. “I swear it by all that’s able to be sworn upon, Toby, one day I’ll carve your heart out and make you eat it!”
“Hmmm. That’s as close to a wedding vow as I’ll ever get. Right, boys?”
They set the torch against the pile of wood at Lotte’s feet, making her squirm and yell through the gag.
“Stop!” I say.
Toby leans in until we share breath. “Give me one good reason.”
But my mouth’s stuck, like my lips have been cemented together, until I see Lotte’s pleading look. Even for all our history, good and bad, I won’t watch her die in such a torturous way.
“Fine,” I say.
Toby cups his ear. “What was that?”
“I said fine. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He smashes his face to mine, kissing me hard, hands pulling me close in what he probably believes is a preview—his idea of love; his own sick idea of it.
When he pulls away, Cara hiccups, and I see Lotte’s understanding for the first time. My father hadn’t taught me what she’d assumed I’d learned. It’d been Toby.
“But we leave,” I say. “You want me, I won’t fight you. But we leave this place.” And Toby can tell I mean it, that I won’t budge.
“Done,” he says.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Liza
When I next wake, my throat feels like I’ve swallowed razor blades. I cough, and water’s thrown into my face.
I expect Tommy to be there, and I expect to find the ocean where I first woke up. Instead, a strange Native American man leans over me. “I thought you were a goner.”
My voice won’t work, and as I scramble backwards, searching for the ones who tried to kill me, those wolf eyes watch me.
“Whoa, whoa,” he says. “It’s okay, they’re gone. I blinded them with a flash grenade and stole their boat. You and I are down a few hundred yards. They’ve given up searching for you, had to swim back the whole way.” He chuckles darkly.
Then he frowns and scrutinizes me. “Liza, listen. My name’s Phillip. We have to move. Now—”
“You know me?” I whisper in breathy desperation.
“Yes. Well, no. I have a good friend who does. A mutual friend of ours: Crystal. She sent me. We have to leave.”
“Crystal?”
That’s the name Tommy had said. So, Phillip had come for me on the island.
Phillip leans in. “Yes. Crystal. Leader of the rebellion in Anthem.”
“I don’t remember.”
He shakes his head, a sigh of disappointment puffing out. “Please tell me you’re playing ignorant. Is this a strategy?”
I shake my own head.
He swipes a hand through thick, black hair long enough to touch his chin. “Well, that’s going to make things a lot harder. Come on. I’ll explain everything on the way.”
“On the way to where?”
“Anthem,” he says, practically growling it.
“No, I have to go back,” I say, panicking. Tommy will think I left him.
“That’s not possible.”
“You don’t understand.” I get up shakily. “I can’t leave. My friend…”
“You don’t remember any of it? The Skulls? People should rule for themselves, not the military, not Simon, not the Cromwells, or the guards—don’t you see? You once understood what it was to be a patriot.”
But nothing registers, and he rolls his eyes. “Look, it wasn’t my idea to come get you, it was hers. This war, these idiots—they’re going to lose, and lose big. I’ve seen Simon’s army, and the Authority’s. No contest. And if you remain here, you’ll die with them. After the uprising in Anthem, things are shaky. We need to make our move.”
“The uprising in Anthem. Did it work?”
“Well, obviously not. You killed Reginald, but his wife Karma is in full control—”
I cover my mouth. “What?”
Phillip seems to realize he’s being too harsh with me. I have no memory of these things, and we’re moving too quickly.
“Reginald Cromwell, leader of the Authority,” he says. “You shot him. He’s dead.”
Chapter Sixty-Four
Liza
For hours Phillip tried to get me to leave, but I couldn’t agree, so he reluctantly took me back, saying he’d be close by if I changed my mind.
He also gave me some advice: “Be on guard. Bradford will look for any chance. He’ll be wary knowing you have friends, but he’ll be a danger. Oh, and Liza,” he added, “look for the spiders.”
This morning, Tommy’s not at my door, but Baby, wearing a smile and another beautiful dress. We were supposed to shop today.
“I’m sick,” I scratch out, tightening the scarf I’d found around my neck.
But she’s no fool. She eyes me up and down, then crosses her arms. “What happened?”
I calculate my risks. I can’t tell Tommy what happened; he’d want to leave, then I’d feel guilty for making him go. This is where he belongs; it’s not my place to change his life any further.
My plan was to feign sickness until the marks fade, but for some reason, I show Baby. Maybe it’s a subconscious test of who she is, what side she’s on. They already want to kill me, so how much worse can it get?
Baby eyes my neck and nods like she expected as much. “That’s La La Land for you. Everyone at each other’s throats, figuratively and literally. They trust no one, and can’t afford to. That looks quite nasty. You gonna tell the big guy?”
I shake my head and fix the scarf, so she says, “Let’s go shopping, then. It’ll lift your spirits and help you avoid questions, at least for a while.”
I move to follow her out, before she turns to me with a serious expression. “Your secret’s safe with me. You see these?” She points to her lips. “They stay sealed unless a good bottle of wine is around.”
Outside of my door, we run into Tommy, and our plan seems like it’ll quickly unravel. He’s eyeing Baby like she’s an enemy. Little does he know the enemy has already come and gone.
She holds up a hand, staying him. “She’s going with me—ah-ah, no questions! ’Tis girls’ day today. No giants allowed.”
I shrug, avoiding his eyes for longer than a blink.
“You sure?” he asks me.
“She’s sure,” Baby says, pulling me along.
As we walk, I realize last night still makes no sense. I should be dead. La La Land has shown herself for what she is: a city so full of secrets, even the spy has friends.
Baby takes me down a few streets with shops containing small but lucrative selections. One catches my eye because the mannequin out front reminds me of something, but my gaze strays to the gorgeous dress its wearing—a sturdy sundress of baby blue, the same shade as my eyes.
“Ah, yeah.” Baby winks, unbuttoning it and bringing it inside. “Let’s grab a few things first. The dressing room’s in back.”
The lady running the establishment rushes forward. “Oh, you found our new dress! I just got that in, straight from France. The boat with that load has given me more than half of my new favorites. This is older-styled, but isn’t it just timeless?”
I nod.
She looks at me, then back at the dress, for once without any fear. It’s nice to meet someone who doesn’t already think of me as a spy. “It was made for you,” she says. “It was.”
Baby makes me try on a few more things, but I save the dress for last.
After making sure the shopkeeper’s not in sight, I step out. Baby grins, crossing her arms. “Oh, my-my. Just look at you.”
I face the mirror. The front of the blue sundress is basic, almost like an apron, but the back’s open from nape to rump, cutting into a hug at the waist, shaping me more girlish than I’ve been since I awoke.
So much exposed skin makes me blush. Baby pulls my navy-blue scarf from my neck and wraps it around my head, lifting my hair from my face before braiding the fabric through my tresses along the side of my head.
“I want you to show off your gorgeous lines,” she says. “Your shoulders and your neck—well, once it’s better and not all red. And these getaway-sticks, girl, wow. You’ve got dancer’s legs.”
I view them through new eyes. When a beautiful girl says you’re beautiful, you feel like you should believe her.
The only blemish is my throat—bright red and blazing, the bruises are turning a nasty color at the edges, like a necklace of abuse.
I touch them and wince. The events from the previous night come tumbling back making my eyes water. Will they come for me again? If so I want a pretty dress for my next hangman’s noose. I can’t quite think beyond it.
When the shopkeeper comes, I rush to throw on a sweater with a high collar. I get one arm in, and Baby hurries to help me hide the marks, but when she grabs the second sleeve to force my other arm inside, the strip of gauze bandage tears away from my skin, and her gaze snaps to the letters there. EVE. I’d forgotten all about it.
She pinches my bicep, eyes wild. “It can’t be,” she breathes, before tugging the sleeve up in time to avoid revealing my brand and my neck to the shopkeeper.
I button up, and we pack our choices into a bag, then take them back to my room.
When we get there, Baby follows me inside and, with a long, graceful finger, she points into my face. “You listen to me, and listen well, golden girl. You hide that mark and don’t ever let anyone see it. You do whatever it takes.”
“I plan on it. But, why?”
Baby’s face pinches with some strange thought or memory. “If the people here find out you have that on your arm, your life will never be the same. Your freedom will be forfeit. I don’t know where you got it, and I don’t want to know. If I know, they know. If you even think about it, they’ll know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Forget that it’s even there,” Baby hisses. “Keep your thoughts blank.”
I try to understand her motives, but just as swiftly as she became serious, Baby’s light and airy once again. She digs into her purse, then opens her hand to show me a drive. “Found this not too long ago when we did a run on houses. Haven’t watched it. Could be baby images; could be porn. Wanna see someone else’s life?”
I follow her lead of a swift subject change. “Why not?”
She smiles like I’m a quick study, then pops the drive into the side of the screen that’s been collecting dust.
We sit on the bed, and soon it becomes clear what this is.
“Aww, they look so in love.”
“Her dress is so flowy,” I whisper.
“Look at that train.”
A pretty blonde smiles up at her groom, struggling with tears as the pastor says something.
“A world away,” Baby says.
Exactly what Tommy said in the boat.
Baby and I share a look. We don’t say it, but we think it: “That could have been me.” Had the world not turned into a madhouse, we’d be both at the age to plan weddings, college. Something besides this.
The reception goes from dancing to toasting, and their friends say all sorts of niceties into the camera, joking, glasses raised to the couple. I can’t help wondering what’s become of them.
Did they die fast or slow?
Baby flicks her hair over her shoulder, then turns to study me when the show’s over.
“Liza.” She tests out the name. “Liza, Liza, Liza. You’re full of surprises. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“That their cake looked tasty.”
She laughs, though she’s not fooled. “What if we could have that again?”
I shrug. “What if.”
“Have you no dreams?” she asks.
“Plenty,” I laugh. “But they’re dark and disturbing. Sometimes, they seem more like memories.”
Baby nods, then her expression falls. “Yeah.” She rises to leave. “Promise me something.”
“I’ll try to.”
“Trust no one.” She pauses, looking conflicted before adding, “Not even me.”
Chapter Sixty-Five
Tommy
“You look fine!” Liza says to me, and I shake my head at my clown suit.
“And you look like Alice in wonderland,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes, but they soon go back in admiration of my dress blues. This silly costume. It even works on her. She sees the medals, and the funny black beret, and the shiny shoes. She’s mush.
Liza’s been sick, holed up for days in her room, so when she showed up in a grandma-knitted sweater, I thought she was canceling. Until I noticed beneath it she wore a summer dress, but not just any summer dress, one that makes her look like Alice, with the slipper black shoes and all. If she was a target before, she’s a soft one now.
&nb
sp; “That friend of yours should have made you buy something practical,” I say, and Liza looks slightly put off by my comments about her attire.
Daisy stands right behind her, watching the exchange, expressionless. Seems she’s decided to appear just in time for the ceremony. I want to tell her I thought she was gone for good, but she shakes her head, reading my thoughts−or, rather, is part of my thoughts.
Daisy lifts a hand in admonition. “No matter what, Tommy, if a girl puts on a new dress, you say it’s pretty.”
I sigh. Daisy’s right.
“Liza.” She picks at a thread not looking at me. “You look very pretty.”
She blossoms at that—her cheeks glow pink, as do her small ears. So, hmm, underneath all of that mystery and forgetfulness lies a true-to-form girl.
“See?” Daisy says.
“And you look very handsome,” Liza replies.
Unfortunately, my chest swells.
What a pair we are. Underneath this half-metal monster lies a true-to-form boy.
“Are you ready?” Liza asks.
I shoot her a glance. Never, I think, but instead, I say, “Sure.”
The ceremony’s gigantic, with my surprise growing more obvious as we get closer to the heart of the city. It’s held between the two towers. Stairs stack up to a big platform, and on top of that sits the council—Nolan, Simon, a woman I don’t recognize, one who wears dark sunglasses, before I notice a familiar grin piercing through the crowd. Cory. Cory Prince.
The prince is here. He’s been decorated and put on the council.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say.
“Hmm?” Liza’s trying to see around the backs of taller people.
But I’m distracted by the attendees. Thousands of military-dressed people line the block. Many others wait below the platform. We’re late. Already they’ve got some recently arrested Authority guards positioned at the front, helmets off to reveal pale skin from the too-long lack of sun and eyes dully unfocused, faces slack without even knowing to be afraid.