Unraveled

by Gennifer Albin

  I lunge forward, hoping to grab Maela and drag her along on the rebound. She can’t prevent Pryana from warning the Coventry. I won’t let her. Pryana steps in front of me, her fingers squeezed into tight balls.

  “Let me—” I start.

  “I’ll finish her,” Pryana promises me as Maela’s head falls back in laughter. The sound races through my body and I try to push past Pryana as the world sparks and cracks around me. I’m moving again, and my last glimpse of the Western Coventry is Pryana charging toward Maela. If she wins, there’s hope for the Coventry, but if not, there’s no promise of help for my sister.

  This time I land in a crumple next to Dante.

  “That’s why we sit down,” Dante grumbles, getting to his feet and brushing off his pants.

  “Are we in?” I ask him. I spring to my feet.

  “I think so,” he says, pivoting to check out our surroundings.

  “Wait,” I say, “this is it. I was here a few weeks ago. But where are the others?”

  “I’m sure Loricel can only move so many of us at once,” he says, but his eyes dart around as we wait for Jax and Falon to join us.

  After a moment, a figure rips into the room, crashing onto the floor. Jax rolls over with a groan. “That was not pleasant.”

  We wait a few more minutes before I start to realize no one else is coming. “Dante,” I say softly, “Falon will chew you out if she shows up and we’re waiting around.”

  Jax takes my lead. “Yeah, man. We can’t wait.”

  “You’re right,” Dante says, but his eyes never meet mine. He keeps searching the air, waiting for her to appear.

  Jax distributes a number of devices that look like digifiles to me, but they’re smaller.

  “What are these?” I ask him.

  “PTDs. Portable telecommunications devices,” he says.

  “Like a walking companel?” I ask.

  “It’s more like a complant, but I don’t have to embed this one in your brain. They’re given to lower-level officers in the Guild. We’ll be able to communicate with one another through them,” he explains. “But if you get caught, smash it.”

  “Smash it?”

  “Heel of boot and floor,” he says. “Otherwise it will lead security straight to the other two … three of us.”

  If Falon joins us. There’s still no sign of her.

  “What first?” I ask.

  “I need to get to the mainframe and dive in while you get Cormac to say that pass code.”

  “How will we know when you’ve initiated the protocol?” Dante asks.

  “You’ll know,” he says. “This whole building is wired to alert everyone of the impending protocol.”

  “Are you telling me an alarm will go off?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he says with a sheepish grin.

  “There goes our low profile,” I say with a grimace. Now that we’re here, my bravado is evaporating quickly. I might have been able to guess Cormac’s code or find it somewhere in his office. I already knew all his favorite things—cigar boxes and decanters. If it was hidden somewhere, I could find it. But talking it out of him was another story, especially if I would have to wait for an alarm to signal me that it was time for him to say it.

  “Nothing about this mission was going to stay secret for long,” Dante reminds me. We race through the halls, following the blueprints Jax has uploaded to his digifile.

  “I’m down here,” Jax says, motioning to a door on his right.

  “Good luck,” I say, and without thinking I lunge forward and hug him.

  “No time for that,” Dante says, but the two shake hands with a meaningful nod to each other.

  “Cormac’s office is on the third floor,” Jax says.

  “I know.” Despite my claim that I can get Cormac to talk, as we maneuver the halls of the Ministry dread builds in me, overflowing into a frantic energy that spills through my body. It’s quiet here, so quiet our footsteps echo off the white tiled floors. Every door we pass is shut, and we haven’t encountered a soul yet.

  “You okay?” Dante asks.

  I nod, but I can’t hide the tremors rolling through my body. Everything depends on getting Cormac to do one thing for me. And Cormac has never done anything for me before. I don’t know why I expect he will now. As we round the corridor that leads directly to Cormac’s office, a pair of thick hands grab me from behind.

  “Look what I found,” a gruff voice teases in my ear. Hannox. Of course. I kick back against my captor, but between being out of breath from running and a little wobbly from the rebound, my feet meet with air. And the man laughs.

  “Cormac is expecting you,” Hannox says. He pushes me forward and I stumble up on my feet.

  “I wouldn’t drop by unannounced,” I say, trying to keep the situation light even though my pulse is racing. I glance around, finally catching sight of Dante. He’s been pinned by another security guard, who’s holding a gun to Dante’s head.

  “Yet you’re using a veil,” Hannox says.

  I bite my lip and stare him down. I have no idea how he can guess that.

  “We found your friend. She put up quite a fight,” Hannox says. “It shouldn’t be long until they’ve locked in on all the veiled sequences in the pattern.”

  “What did you do to her?” Dante demands. Another guard is holding him steady, his arms locked behind his back.

  “What we do to traitors,” Hannox spits back at him. He gets up next to Dante’s face. “We ripped that little girl. And now we’ll rip her, too.” He jerks a thumb at me.

  Dante’s jaw tenses, but before I can say anything to distract him, he smashes his forehead into Hannox’s nose, sending a fountain of blood spurting into the air and the guard fumbling to control his gun.

  “You bastard,” Hannox says, grabbing his nose. His hand flies up.

  “Stop!” Cormac commands. “This is no way to treat our guests.”

  “He broke my bloody nose,” Hannox shrieks.

  “Thanks for the status update,” Cormac says. “Bring them into my office.”

  Hannox grabs me roughly and drags me toward the open door at the end of the hall. I consider the injuries I could inflict on him and for a moment my fingers itch and tingle, urging me to attack. But if I unwind Cormac’s right-hand man, I’ll never get Cormac to give me the pass code.

  So I let them lead me down the narrow corridor and into the den of my enemy.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “I’M SURPRISED TO SEE YOU CAN CONTROL yourself,” Cormac says to me when Hannox shoves me into his office. Hannox and his men force us into chairs and tie our hands behind our backs. I don’t even struggle. All I need is for Cormac to talk, and maybe he will if he thinks I’m incapacitated. Cormac shares a few quiet words with his right-hand man as one of the officers finishes tying us to our chairs. Hannox casts one long look at me before he orders his men to follow him out of the room.

  We have Cormac alone. This should feel like a victory.

  “I didn’t try to escape this time,” I remind him now that Hannox is gone. “I was taken.”

  “And yet I notice you aren’t wearing my ring,” he snarls. “And there is a glow about you. Spending time with young Erik? Or is it Jost? I can’t keep up with you.”

  “We took Adelice,” Dante says. “She convinced us to bring her back.”

  “Sell your lies elsewhere,” Cormac says, tugging at his bow tie. “I was heartbroken to learn young Alixandra is a traitor. I can’t wait to get my hands on her—now that I’m through with her.”

  Through with her? I glance at Dante to see if he caught it, but his eyes are distant. Plotting.

  “You came in veiled after rebounding into every remaining sector in Arras,” Cormac continues. “You have someone very talented working with your group.”

  I keep my face stony. I’m not sure what harm it would do to admit Cormac is right, but I also know he hoards information, keeping it to twist for his own purposes later.

  “Tell Loricel I sa
id hello,” Cormac says. “Unless…” He leaves the unspoken words in the air, niggling at me like an itch.

  “Unless?” I can’t help prompting him.

  “Unless you came from the Eastern Sector.”

  “And if we did?” Dante asks.

  “Then I’ll be offering condolences soon.”

  I bite back a cocky smile. Cormac doesn’t know that we know about his plan. He doesn’t know that there was time to evacuate.

  “Don’t hide your smile, Adelice. I’ve always loved that smug grin,” Cormac says. He strides over to his desk and pours himself a drink. “I especially love the moments when I get to wipe it off your smug face.”

  “Not this time, Cormac,” I say.

  “Do you think I didn’t know Alixandra was going to betray me?” he asks.

  He succeeds at wiping the amusement from me.

  “You didn’t set the Eastern Sector to self-destruct,” I say in a flat voice.

  “Of course not,” Cormac says, “but by now your people will have herded themselves into a nice flock of sheep ready for the slaughter.”

  Erik. Jost. Sebrina. The list of people currently evacuating flashes through my mind. “Don’t. I will do anything you want.”

  “But you’ve already done everything I wanted,” Cormac says. “You rid me of a troublesome sector, put the rest of Arras into a panic, and managed to hand deliver the leaders of the Kairos Agenda. Do you think citizens will listen to strangers screaming that the sky is falling? Arras will look to me now and I am more prepared than anyone expected for the tragic events of today.”

  “You never wanted to marry me,” I realize.

  “Now you’re catching on.”

  I wasn’t a distraction for the citizens of Arras, I was a distraction for the Kairos Agenda. Because of me they walked right into Cormac’s trap in the Eastern Sector. But worst of all, I’d been so caught up in guessing Cormac’s next move in our staged plan, I never saw any of this coming.

  “Pryana? Alix? You knew they were Agenda,” I guess.

  Cormac’s lips curl as he nods. “I figured it out. They both proved quite useful. They were too busy thinking they were clever—”

  “To realize you were feeding them information,” I finish for him. That’s why Pryana hadn’t heard anything about Cormac’s order. He had purposefully slipped the information to Alix, knowing she would pass it on to the rest of us.

  “It was simple. Feed one rebel rotten information and she’ll poison the rest of the group. Watch the lie spread and ferret out the traitors. Soon there will be no more Agenda infestation.”

  “And now the whole of Arras will believe you’re their hero,” Dante says. “Because there will be no one to tell them any differently.”

  “You’ve done a good job cementing yourself in the minds of the people of Arras,” Cormac says to me. “When I share my heartbreak over your rebellion, they will feel the outrage that only betrayal can cultivate.”

  “And who will keep your looms running?” I ask. “What will you do when the Earth fails to produce your precious raw materials?”

  “Once we remove the threat left below there, I won’t have to worry about the interference of scum like you.”

  “And what if there’s a singularity?” I challenge.

  “That’s a theory,” Cormac says with a wave of his hand. “My men don’t believe it’s a threat.”

  “Albert does,” I say in a low voice. “Keep harvesting and you’ll destroy Earth and Arras.”

  “Aren’t we taking our Whorl role a little too seriously?” His lips press into a thin smile. “There’s no Whorl. It’s only a legend passed between desperate men.”

  Nothing about Cormac’s dismissal of me or the Agenda stings, because he fails to understand. Even now, I’m only beginning to comprehend it myself. “Those desperate men are your people, and they believe their legend.”

  “What good is belief? Perhaps saying that you believe in something helps you sleep at night, but you and I both know there is no power in that.”

  “It’s not just the belief,” I say as a sense of purpose plants itself in my brain, growing roots that lodge within my soul. “It’s the possibility, and once people see what is possible, even in one tiny, insignificant moment, they’re capable of imagining more. There is power in imagination. Undeniable, unpredictable, uncontrollable power. You’re right. The Whorl might be nothing more than a dream, but the idea has given people the ability to dream again. You won’t find it easy to control them now.”

  Cormac’s jaw tightens, but there’s no trace of anger or annoyance or even amusement. He’s calling my bluff.

  “But you already know that,” I continue. “Girls and boys deciding not to marry. Spinsters refusing to stay at their looms. What will you do when all the Spinsters begin to dream?”

  But he only smirks. “Every society must evolve.”

  He raises his fingers and trails them through an invisible pattern in the air. After a moment, a crack in the fabric of the room appears.

  “What did you do?” I ask in a breathless voice.

  “There are those who said men shouldn’t have this power, but I disagree,” Cormac says. “Not just any man should have this power. But I am not just any man.”

  “You’ve been altering yourself,” I realize aloud. His erratic behavior. The scar I glimpsed. It makes sense.

  “Isn’t that why you kicked Kincaid out? For perverting the research behind the Cypress Project?” Dante asks. “Or did you kick him out to steal his idea?”

  “Kincaid was a fool. He was always too busy showing off to consider what the people around him needed.”

  “Does that sound like anyone we know?” I ask in mock innocence.

  “It takes one to know one,” Cormac points out.

  He might have a point. Even now I’m too busy showing off and talking back to consider what I need to do in order to ensure that the others survive this.

  “So you’re a Spinster—or are you a Tailor?” I ask. I pull against the rope binding my hands. I wasn’t scared to be in the same room with him before. Now I am.

  “I’m a thinker. A Tailor. A Spinster. A spy,” he says. “But most important, I’m a Creweler.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I say, because I need it to be false. I need to believe he doesn’t have these abilities.

  “Oh, rest assured, Adelice. Thanks to your measurements, our scientists have been able to synthesize a genetic compound that has given me the same set of skills you possess.”

  I stare at him, trying to wrap my head around this. The thing is, it’s not simply that Cormac has been altered to have these abilities. They’ve been synthesized, like in the earliest experiments with the serums on Earth. Experiments that had gone horribly wrong. The fact is, Cormac is merely a test case, which explains the unpredictability of his behavior and his erratic attitude in the past few weeks.

  “I thought you seemed off,” I say to him. “I wrote it off as stress, but it seems it was more than that. You’ve been running your own personal Cypress Project all along.”

  Cormac hadn’t been losing his mind. He’d been warping it, pushing his own genetic abilities to the brink.

  “I don’t need your condescension, Adelice,” Cormac says. “Nor do I appreciate it.”

  “You’re insane,” Dante says. “Can you appreciate that?”

  “I’m powerful,” Cormac says. “If I were insane I wouldn’t be nearly as successful as I am.”

  “You have an entire world living a lie—”

  “That they’re eager to believe,” Cormac interrupts me.

  “You think lies are that easy to swallow?” I ask. “Arras knows you’re full of it, Cormac, and soon they’ll have proof.”

  “And who is going to show them?” he asks. “You?”

  “Believe me, I’m up for the challenge.”

  Before he can retort, a shrill siren sounds. Jax has managed to trip the protocols and set off the evacuation alert. Now we merely ne
ed Cormac to say the pass code and Protocol Three will be initiated.

  That shouldn’t be hard, given his god complex.

  “I see you didn’t come alone,” Cormac says. “What were you saying about wanting to come back and make things work?”

  “I have no idea what’s going on,” I say, keeping my face blank. In truth, I don’t know where Jax is.

  Cormac holds up the PTD that Jax gave us to communicate and waves it at me. “Who’s at the other end of this?” he asks.

  “No one you know,” I say.

  “Not my dear Erik then? Pity. I would love to rip that nuisance right out of Arras. But it is someone you know, Adelice. You pulled a little trick once at the Coventry,” Cormac says, “and I’ve often thought of it. You disregarded proximity standards. Do you remember?”

  I know what he’s talking about. I had called up the repository in Loricel’s room and rewoven it into the strange screens in her studio, so that I could enter it and search for information about my sister. Because I was manipulating the space around me, I risked the integrity of the Coventry’s weave. It shouldn’t have been possible for me to do it, and it probably wouldn’t have been if I had been using any loom other than Loricel’s. Still, the loom had warned me by issuing a proximity alert. I have no idea what that has to do with the PTD that connects me to Jax, though.

  “I’ve had them install a toy in my office,” Cormac says. He presses a button, opening a hidden panel in his wall to reveal a gleaming new loom.

  “That’s your problem, Cormac,” I say. “A loom isn’t a toy. Arras is doomed if you think it is. You can’t even access it within the boundaries of Arras.” Now I know why he mentioned the proximity alert. It isn’t safe to weave and do Crewel work within Arras. That’s why the coventries exist between Earth and Arras—as a safety measure. And Cormac is disregarding that. I’ve spent too much time laughing off his drinking to realize his real addiction is power.

  “Let’s see what we can do with it anyway,” he says.

  He presses a series of buttons on the side of the loom and it whirrs to life. I strain against my bindings, trying to get a better view of the loom.