Hostage

by Rachel Manija Brown

  Santiago nodded. “People were scared of him, because . . .”

  Because he reported back to Voske, Ross thought.

  “Well, they shouldn’t have been. He was a good guy. But he disappeared. Really disappeared.” Santiago leaned in to whisper, “The king was furious. That’s why we don’t talk about him. But yeah, people look around because . . . the king knows things.”

  Maybe not as much as you think, Ross thought. Though Voske had known what Ross had said to the gophers, he didn’t know about Mia’s weapon. That confirmed Ross’s theory that the spy thing couldn’t see in the dark.

  Santiago sighed. “I keep looking for Sean because I hope I’ll see him. I like to think he’s still alive somewhere.”

  A deep boom echoed back from the distant mountains. Ross jumped.

  “It’s just blasting at the construction site. We’re building another dam.” Santiago waved his hand in an easterly direction, then smiled brightly. Too brightly. “Let’s go. I promised Maria-Luz I’d help bake the cake for her quinceañera. Did I ever tell you how I learned to bake, Ross? It all began . . .”

  *

  It was evening when they headed back to the palace. Ross couldn’t wait to be alone, even though it meant being locked up. It wasn’t that he disliked Santiago. If he had, the desperation behind Santiago’s smile wouldn’t have bothered him so much.

  Except for the little kids, Santiago’s entire family had been like that, watching Ross anxiously while they asked him if he liked the food, if he wanted anything more, if he was comfortable, if he wanted to dance. Whenever he spoke, everyone fell silent to listen. A quinceañera was supposed to celebrate the girl’s fifteenth birthday, but the party guests had been more focused on Ross than on pretty Maria-Luz in her tiara and sparkling pink dress. It was unnerving.

  As he and Santiago started up the garden path, soldiers began running toward the palace.

  “There’s news of the princess!” one shouted.

  Voske appeared at the palace door, and the crowd of soldiers immediately quieted. He held up a small object that sparkled red under the electric light.

  “Princess Kerry’s earring has been found.” The king paused as the crowd gave a loud cheer. “I believe she left it as a message for us. The search is continuing. Once we find her other earring, we’ll have a vector. You may return to your duties.”

  The crowd dispersed. Santiago dashed up to salute the king.

  “You think she’s been captured?” Santiago asked.

  “I am certain now, yes. I expect when we find her other earring, it’ll point us straight to Las Anclas.” Voske smiled.

  Ross felt that smile aimed at him like a crossbow bolt.

  “Are you going to attack?” Santiago asked eagerly. “I volunteer.”

  Voske shook his head. “We’ll wait for their messenger. I’m sure one will be along soon. If we rush to the attack, I’m afraid the first casualty would be Kerry.”

  “I volunteer to intercept the messenger,” Santiago offered.

  Voske clapped him on the shoulder. “I appreciate your enthusiasm. But you have your orders.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three. Las Anclas.

  Kerry

  Kerry’s first sight of the walls of Las Anclas revealed at least three breaches of discipline that should have earned the slackers twenty lashes. Instead of standing in proper formation, the sentries—a large number of them teens— clumped together, leaning recklessly over the shields and presenting themselves as easy targets. They chattered loudly and excitedly when they should have kept silent. Most disgraceful of all, several held their crossbows dangling carelessly and their longbows loose.

  She’d been captured by a town of incompetents. How humiliating.

  Several sentries squealed like pigs as they came closer. Kerry tipped her head back to get a better look at the shameful commotion. Sunlight fell on her face, making her squint.

  All noises stopped.

  A voice broke the silence. “Who’s that girl?”

  “Haven’t I see her before?” another voice inquired.

  “Where’s Ross?” a third person called.

  Every sentry began shouting at once. Discipline was totally unknown here, obviously. A guy yelled into a bullhorn, but was ignored.

  “Quiet!” It was a woman’s voice. Now everyone shut up. “Open the gates.”

  As the party rode through the gates, a woman with two black braids descended the steps from the sentry walk. Maybe that was the mayor.

  Kerry’s captors dismounted. She toyed with the idea of making a break for it, but the reins whipped away from her hand as if they had a life of their own and smacked into Jennie’s outstretched palm. Kerry dismounted, pretending not to notice.

  As a kid led her horse away, Kerry turned. A skull stared at her. She jumped, then realized that it was only a Changed face. The woman with the braids watched Kerry from one brown eye in half of an elegant face, and one yellow snake eye from a deep socket in thin skin stretched over bone.

  Kerry was impressed. That face had to be great for intimidating people. And if you weren’t intimidated—Kerry was not, of course—it was amazingly cool. She couldn’t stop looking at it.

  Kerry wondered who the woman was. She couldn’t be the mayor. The renegade Tom Preston hated Changed people, and he was the mayor’s husband.

  “Jennie, who is this?” the skull-faced woman asked.

  Kerry summoned all the dignity Min Soo had taught her. “I am Princess Kerry Ji Sun Voske.”

  The woman clapped. “Lockdown!”

  The crowd broke up almost as fast as they would have in Gold Point, scrambling up the stairs to the wall or dispersing in an orderly fashion across the square.

  Interesting, Kerry thought. Maybe this woman was the real power in town.

  She was startled by a bell ringing out the same pattern used in Gold Point. Preston had even stolen the bell patterns from Father!

  “Julio! All patrols to the outer perimeter!” A big, scowling man strode up, scattering the last of the gawkers.

  He wore silver-rimmed glasses, and his pale blue eyes were startling against his dark skin. That had to be the traitor Preston. Father had described him in detail.

  “Is there any pursuit?” Preston asked.

  “We haven’t seen any signs of it,” Jennie replied.

  But they’re coming, Kerry thought. She hoped Santiago would lead them.

  Preston addressed the skull-faced woman. “Sheriff Crow, we’ll take this discussion to my house.”

  “No,” Sheriff Crow said. “We’ll take it to the jail.”

  She talked to Preston like they were equals. Even more interesting. Maybe Preston had been demoted for poor performance in the battle. Father had taught her to detect rivalries between people and use that to her advantage, and these two certainly seemed to have a rivalry.

  Sheriff Crow started down a path between paltry vegetable plots, flanked by Jennie and Preston. Mr. Vilas and Yuki closed in on either side of Kerry, preventing her from following on Jennie’s heels. Brisa and Indra were so close behind Kerry they were practically breathing down her neck. The four of them herded her like an old cow. She couldn’t hear a word of the report Jennie must be giving.

  They were taking her to the jail. That meant she’d be interrogated. And, most likely, tortured.

  Kerry forced herself not to flinch, but her heart tried to burst through her chest. She reminded herself that she was a valuable prisoner. They’d hurt her, but they wouldn’t do any permanent damage.

  Remember your training, Kerry thought. They’ll want to know about Father’s ‘spy device.’ I have to come up with enough plausible lies that if I break and tell the truth, they’ll never be able to tell the difference.

  She couldn’t help wondering what sort of torture they’d use, though Father had said she shouldn’t obsess about that. He’d warned her that if she was ever captured, her jailers would give her plenty of time to sit by herself, getting more and more scared. Exact
ly like they’d done to Ross.

  Well, she wasn’t going to curl up in a miserable little ball in the corner of the room. She’d show them how a princess behaved. Kerry raised her head high.

  “Jennie!” a hysterical shriek rose up. “Where’s Ross?”

  A short, slovenly girl erupted from behind a hedge, clutching a screwdriver. She was splattered with grease from her glasses to the knees of her overalls.

  “Is Ross dead?” she wailed.

  “He’s alive,” Jennie said. “We just couldn’t get to him.”

  Brisa bounced up to Grease Girl, and patted her kindly. “We saw him. He really was alive.”

  “Did he see you?” howled Grease Girl. “Does he know he’s not alone? It’s been nineteen days! Nineteen days and seven hours! Nineteen days, seven hours, and twenty—”

  To Kerry’s surprise, the tough, emotionless Jennie didn’t annihilate Grease Girl and her stupid questions. “I will get him back to you, Mia. I promised you I would, and I will.”

  Kerry examined the disheveled girl with new interest. That was Ross’s girlfriend?

  Mia wormed between Mr. Vilas and Yuki to snatch at Kerry’s sleeve. Her eyes were startlingly like Kerry’s own, behind those filthy glasses.

  “What did you do to him?” Mia demanded.

  Kerry offered her a sympathetic look. “He’s perfectly fine—”

  “Mia,” Preston said warningly. “Your father will tell you what the council hears. Your Lockdown position is in the surgery.”

  Mia opened her mouth as if she was longing to talk more, then fled.

  Good, Kerry thought. One more tool for me to use.

  They reached a low adobe building. The windows on the left-hand side had iron bars in them. Kerry’s insides tightened.

  Don’t borrow trouble, she reminded herself. Remember your stories. You were taught by the best. You’re prepared for anything.

  Everyone crowded inside the jailhouse. Kerry didn’t see any torture devices, only racks of weapons and a table with wooden chairs. The jails in Gold Point were much better equipped.

  “Good work,” said Preston to the team. “I wish I could give you some liberty, but you’ll have it after Lockdown. Go take your positions.”

  As everyone but Preston and the sheriff filed out, Kerry took a better look around the room. The weapons were locked up, but she spotted the back wall through a window. It wasn’t all that far away . . .

  The front door was five steps behind her. The sheriff, who undoubtedly had a Change power, was heading for an iron door. Preston had gone around the table to grab some chairs. He looked as tough as his reputation, but she knew he wasn’t Changed, and there was gray in his hair.

  It took five of them to capture me, Kerry thought. I can handle two.

  She bolted for the door.

  Before she made her second step, a powerful force slammed her to the floor. A knee like iron dug into the small of her back, and hands like steel claws pinned hers to the ground. Kerry tried to wrench free, but all she could move was her head.

  The hand pinning her wrists shifted. Kerry gasped as fingers closed around the scruff of her shirt, and she was slung like a sack of grain through the cell door onto a hard dirt floor. That sheriff was incredibly strong and fast. Why hadn’t Kerry been briefed on her?

  “You can sit there and think about being more cooperative,” said Preston.

  “Deputy,” Sheriff Crow called.

  A woman walked in, rifle tucked under her armpit.

  “She can create invisible weapons,” said the sheriff. “Don’t get within six feet of her.”

  The sheriff and Preston left Kerry alone with the deputy.

  Kerry tried not to be too disappointed at her failed escape. She’d gained valuable knowledge, so it hadn’t been a waste. She’d use the time she was supposed to spend worrying about being tortured to review her stories.

  Chapter Twenty-Four. Las Anclas.

  Yuki

  Yuki’s Lockdown station was at the front gate. But his mother waved him off, saying, “I have enough coverage. Go get some rest.”

  Yuki couldn’t rest until he’d seen Paco. He paced impatiently around the front gate. Paco and his patrol should have been back by now. Yuki had to be the person to tell Paco about Kerry—about Voske.

  Paco had thought his father had been a traveler, maybe a musician like himself, someone carefree and light-hearted. Not a tyrant. Not the man who had killed his mother.

  His sister Meredith pounded up, panting. “Yuki! Paco’s patrol is coming in through the back gate.”

  “Damn!” Yuki ran, leaping over the low fences dividing people’s vegetable patches. The way news traveled in Las Anclas, he might already be too late.

  He skidded up to the back gate just as Julio said, “No, I didn’t know. I’m as surprised as you are.”

  “Poor kid,” Frances replied, scratching her head. “No wonder Sera never talked about his father.”

  Paco stood beside his horse, the reins trailing in the dust where he must have dropped them. His face was as blank and tense as when he’d gotten the news that his mother had been killed.

  Yuki felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. He put his hand on Paco’s shoulder, then snatched it away when Paco stiffened. “I only found out in Gold Point, Paco. I ran here to tell you—”

  “No, really, it’s perfect.” Henry Callahan smirked at them. “It all makes sense now. Of course a prince would only want to date another prince.”

  It was like someone else took over Yuki’s body. Without ever making a decision, there was a flash of pain in his fist, and then he was looking down at Henry sprawled in the dust, nose bleeding.

  “What was that for? Can’t you take a joke?” Henry said thickly, hand pressed to his nose.

  Sheriff Crow grabbed Henry’s collar and yanked him to his feet. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the front wall?”

  “We just rode in,” Henry began protesting, but the sheriff gave him a hard shove. He ran off, muttering plaintively, “What’s got into everyone?”

  “Paco, I wanted to tell you first,” Yuki said.

  Paco’s stricken gaze lifted to Sheriff Crow’s face. “But they all knew,” he whispered. He sounded utterly betrayed. “The adults.”

  “Not everyone,” Frances said. “I’d just joined the Rangers when she came here. She never told any of us who your father was.”

  The Sheriff looked away, and Paco said flatly, “You knew, Sheriff Crow. Mr. Preston sure knew. That’s why he wouldn’t let me go to Gold Point. He didn’t trust me.”

  Sheriff Crow shook her head. “Paco, no. He was trying to protect you. Your mother only told her best friends. We hoped you would never find out. That’s what she wanted.”

  At the word ‘mother’ Paco’s eyes shuttered.

  Mr. Preston pushed through the crowd. “Everyone without a Lockdown station, go back to work. Everyone else, go home. Show’s over.”

  That broke up the crowd.

  “We can talk at the harvest barn,” Mr. Preston said. “Yuki? Why aren’t you at Lockdown?”

  “My mother dismissed—”

  “Don’t go.” Paco grabbed Yuki’s arm, then said to Mr. Preston, “Anything you have to say, he can hear.”

  Yuki would gladly have gone if Paco hadn’t wanted him there. Dread tightened his neck as they walked into the barn. Mr. Preston left the door open, but Paco slammed it. The hot air suffocated Yuki, thick with the smells of dust and hay.

  Paco faced Mr. Preston. “You don’t trust me. You thought if I found out, I’d betray this town.”

  Mr. Preston raised a hand, palm out. “Stop. Stop right there, Paco. None of us ever thought that. Keeping the secret was your mother’s wish.”

  Paco muttered, “That’s easy for you to say. She’s dead.”

  Yuki had seen Mr. Preston lose his temper when people gave him backtalk, but not this time. “You can ask Dr. Lee. He delivered you. It was almost the first thing Sera said after you were bo
rn.”

  Paco made a noise almost like a sob. Then he shut his teeth with a click.

  Mr. Preston took a step away, like he was trying to figure out what to say next. Then he came back. “We hoped you would never find out.”

  “Was she married to him?” Paco asked.

  “No, no.” Mr. Preston waved like he was pushing the words away, “We were teenagers. Your age.” As if he was trying to make a joke, he said, “I know that must seem hard for you boys to believe.”

  Neither Yuki nor Paco smiled.

  “Back then, Gold Point was ruled by Voske’s mother.” Mr. Preston shuddered, something Yuki had never seen him do before. “The queen had the most horrific Change I’ve ever seen. She wore a black leather glove over her right hand—just the right one, to make sure nobody ever forgot what was underneath. It was a skeleton hand, nothing but rattling white bones. If she touched you with it, you died.”

  Yuki’s skin crept. Was that the origin of Mr. Preston’s prejudice against the Changed?

  Mr. Preston went on, “The princes and princesses had hand-picked bodyguards their own age. They liked to start them young, to make sure they grew up loyal. Orphans were preferred, so they’d be as close to their charge as if they were family. Omar and Sera and I were Voske’s bodyguards—he was Prince Ian, then. The queen specifically picked Norms for him, so he wouldn’t be jealous.”

  Paco clenched his fists. “If you’re working up to telling me that he raped her, just go ahead and say it.”

  “Nothing like that.” Mr. Preston shook his head. “Ian was good-looking and popular, even apart from being a prince. We were all friends.”

  Paco made a noise of disgust.

  Mr. Preston ignored that. “I was about to go to Las Anclas as a spy, to learn its weaknesses before Ian led his first attack against a major town. We all knew my mission was dangerous, and even if it went fine, I wouldn’t be back for months. The four of us went camping, and we took a jug of hard cider. When I woke up the next morning, Sera and Ian were in the same sleeping bag. It was the first time for them both. We all thought it was funny.”

  Paco dropped his head, hiding his face. Yuki wanted to hide too, but with embarrassment. He couldn’t imagine what Paco was feeling.