Lissaʹs eyes lingered on one of the statues for a long time before she turned back to the church. She was sweating heavily now, and I realized some of it wasnʹt just the heat. She was anxious too. But why? Why was she so nervous? This was just ceremony. All she had to do was go through the motions here. Yet . . . there it was again. Something else was bothering her. She was still keeping a cluster of thoughts from me, but a few leaked out as she worried.
Too close, too close. Weʹre moving too fast.
Fast? Not by my estimation. I could have never handled this slow, stately pace. I felt especially bad for the pallbearers. If I were one, I wouldʹve said to hell with propriety and started jogging toward my final destination. Of course, that might jostle the body. If the funeral coordinator had been upset over Lissaʹs dress, there was no telling how sheʹd react if Tatiana fell out of the coffin.
Our view of the cathedral was getting clearer, its domes shining amber and orange in the setting sun. Lissa was still several yards away, but the priest standing out front was clearly visible. His robes were almost blinding. They were made of heavy, glittering gold brocade, long and full. A rounded hat with a cross, also gold, sat on his head. I thought it was in poor taste for him to outshine the queenʹs clothing, but maybe that was just what priests did on formal occasions. Maybe it got Godʹs attention. He lifted his arms in welcome, showing off more of that rich fabric. The rest of the crowd and I couldnʹt help but stare at the dazzling display.
So, you can imagine our surprise when the statues blew up.
FOUR
AND WHEN I SAY THEY blew up, I mean they blew up.
Flames and smoke unfurled like petals from a newly opened flower as those poor monarchs exploded into pieces of rock. For a moment, I was stunned. It was like watching an action movie, the explosion cracking the air and shaking the ground. Then, guardian training kicked in. Critical observation and calculation took over. I immediately noticed that the bulk of the statueʹs material blew toward the outer sides of the garden. Small stone pieces and dust rained down on the funeral procession, but no large chunks of rock hit Lissa or anyone standing nearby. Assuming the statues had not spontaneously combusted, whoever had blown them up had done so in a precise way.
The logistics aside, huge billowing pillars of flame are still pretty scary. Chaos broke loose as everyone tried to get away. Only, they all took different routes, so collisions and entanglements occurred. Even the pallbearers set down their precious burden and took off. Ambrose was the last to do so, his mouth agape and eyes wide as he stared at Tatiana, but another look at the statues sent him off into the mob. A few guardians tried to keep order, herding people back down the funeral path, but it didnʹt do a lot of good. Everyone was out for themselves, too terrified and panicked to think reasonably.
Well, everyone except for Lissa.
To my surprise, she wasnʹt surprised.
She had been expecting the explosion.
She didnʹt run right away, despite people pushing past and shoving her aside. She stood rooted where sheʹd been when the statues blew up, studying them and the wreckage theyʹd caused. In particular, she seemed concerned about anyone in the crowd who might have been hurt by the blasts. But, no. As Iʹd already observed, there seemed to be no injuries. And if there were, it was going to be because of the stampede.
Satisfied, Lissa turned and began walking away with the others. (Well, she was walking; they were running). Sheʹd only gone a little distance when she saw a huge group of guardians hurrying toward the church, faces grim. Some of them stopped to aid those escaping the destruction, but most of the guardians were on their way to the blast site to see what had happened.
Lissa paused again, causing the guy behind her to slam into her back, but she barely felt the impact. She intently watched the guardians, taking note of how many there were, and then moved on once more. Her hidden thoughts were starting to unravel. Finally, I began to see pieces of the plan sheʹd kept hidden from me. She was pleased. Nervous, too. But overall, she felt—
A commotion back at the jail snapped me into my own mind. The usual quiet of the holding area had shattered and was now filled with grunts and exclamations. I leapt up from where Iʹd been sitting and pressed against the bars, straining to see what was happening. Was this building about to explode too? My cell only faced a wall in the hallway, with no view of the rest of the corridor or its entrance. I did, however, see the guardians who usually stood at the hallʹs far end come tearing past me, toward whatever altercation was occurring.
I didnʹt know what this meant for me and braced for anything, friend or foe. For all I knew, there could be some political fringe group launching attacks on the Court to make a statement against the Moroi government. Peering around the cell, I swore silently, wishing I had anything to defend myself. The closest I had was Abeʹs book, which was no good at all. If he was the badass he pretended to be, he really would have slipped a file into it. Or gotten me something bigger, like War and Peace.
The scuffling died down and footsteps thundered toward me. Clenching my fists, I took a few steps back, ready to defend myself against anyone.
ʺAnyoneʺ turned out to be Eddie Castile. And Mikhail Tanner.
Friendly faces were not what I had expected. Eddie was a longtime friend from St. Vladimirʹs, another new guardian like me and someone whoʹd stuck by me through a lot of misadventures, including the Victor Dashkov prison break. Mikhail was older than us, mid-twenties, and had helped us restore Dimitri in the hopes that Sonya Karp—a woman Mikhail had loved who had turned Strigoi—might be saved as well. I glanced back and forth between the two guysʹ faces.
ʺWhatʹs going on?ʺ I demanded.
ʺNice to see you too,ʺ said Eddie. He was sweating and keyed up with battle fervor, a few purple marks on his face showing heʹd met someoneʹs fist tonight. In his hand was a weapon Iʹd seen in the guardiansʹ arsenal: a baton-type thing used to incapacitate people without killing them. But Mikhail held something much more valuable: the keycard and mechanical key to open my cell.
My friends were staging a prison break. Unbelievable. Crazy was usually my specialty.
ʺDid you guys . . .ʺ I frowned. The thought of escape filled me with joy, but the logistics were sobering. Clearly, theyʹd been responsible for the fight with my guards that Iʹd just heard. Getting down here in the first place wasnʹt that easy either. ʺDid you two just take on every guardian in this building?ʺ
Mikhail finished unlocking the door, and I didnʹt waste any time in hurrying out. After feeling so oppressed and smothered for days, it was like stepping onto a mountain ledge, wind and space all around me.
ʺRose, there are no guardians in this building. Well, maybe one. And these guys.ʺ Eddie gestured in the direction of the earlier fight, where I assumed my guards lay unconscious. Surely my friends hadnʹt killed anyone.
ʺThe rest of the guardians are all checking out the explosion,ʺ I realized. Pieces began coming together—including Lissaʹs lack of surprise over the commotion. ʺOh no. You had Christian blow up ancient Moroi artifacts.ʺ
ʺOf course not,ʺ said Eddie. He seemed shocked that I would have suggested such an atrocity. ʺOther fire users would be able to tell if he did.ʺ
ʺWell, thatʹs something,ʺ I said. I should have had more faith in their sanity.
Or maybe not.
ʺWe used C4,ʺ explained Mikhail.
ʺWhere on earth did you—ʺ
My tongue locked up when I saw who was standing at the end of the hallway. Dimitri.
Not knowing how he was during my imprisonment had been frustrating. Christian and Tashaʹs report had been only a tease. Well, here was the answer. Dimitri stood near the hallʹs entrance in all his six-foot-seven glory, as imperious and intimidating as any god. His sharp brown eyes assessed everything in an instant, and his strong, lean body was tensed and ready for any threat. The look on his face was so focused, so filled with passion, that I couldnʹt believe anyone ever could have thought he was a Strigoi. Dim
itri burned with life and energy. In fact, looking at him now, I was again reminded of how heʹd stood up for me at my arrest. He wore that same expression. Really, it was the same one Iʹd seen countless times. It was the one people feared and admired. It was the one I had loved.
ʺYouʹre here too?ʺ I tried reminding myself that my muddled romantic history wasnʹt the most important thing in the world for a change. ʺArenʹt you under house arrest?ʺ
ʺHe escaped,ʺ said Eddie slyly. I caught the real meaning: he and Mikhail had helped Dimitri escape. ʺItʹs what people would expect some violent probably-still-a-Strigoi guy to do, right?ʺ
ʺYouʹd also expect him to come bust you out,ʺ added Mikhail, playing along with the game. ʺEspecially considering how he fought for you last week. Really, everyone is going to think he busted you out alone. Not with us.ʺ
Dimitri said nothing. His eyes, while still carefully watching our surroundings, were also assessing me. He was making sure I was okay and uninjured. He looked relieved that I was.
ʺCome on,ʺ Dimitri finally said. ʺWe donʹt have much time.ʺ That was an understatement, but there was one thing bugging me about my friendsʹ ʺbrilliantʺ plan.
ʺThereʹs no way theyʹll think he did it alone!ʺ I exclaimed, realizing what Mikhail was getting at. They were setting Dimitri up as the culprit in this escape. I gestured to the unconscious guardians at our feet. ʺThey saw your faces.ʺ
ʺNot really,ʺ a new voice said. ʺNot after a little spirit-induced amnesia. By the time they wake up, the only person theyʹll remember seeing will be that unstable Russian guy. No offense.ʺ
ʺNone taken,ʺ said Dimitri, as Adrian stepped through the doorway.
I stared, trying not to gape. There they were together, the two men in my life. Adrian hardly looked like he could jump into a fistfight, but he was as alert and serious as the other fighters here. His lovely eyes were clear and full of the cunning I knew they could possess when he really tried. Thatʹs when it hit me: he showed no sign of intoxication whatsoever. Had what Iʹd seen the other day been a ruse? Or had he forced himself to take control? Either way, I felt a slow grin creeping over my face.
ʺLissa lied to your mom earlier,ʺ I said. ʺYouʹre supposed to be passed out drunk somewhere.ʺ
He rewarded me with one of his cynical smiles. ʺWell, yes, that would probably be the smarter—and more enjoyable—thing to be doing right now. And hopefully, thatʹs what everyone thinks Iʹm doing.ʺ
ʺWe need to go,ʺ said Dimitri, growing agitated.
We turned toward him. Our jokes vanished. That attitude Iʹd noticed about Dimitri, the one that said he could do anything and would always lead you to victory, made people want to follow him unconditionally. The expressions on Mikhail and Eddieʹs faces—as they grew serious—showed that was exactly how they felt. It seemed natural to me too. Even Adrian looked like he believed in Dimitri, and in that moment, I admired Adrian for putting aside any jealousy—and also for risking himself like this. Especially since Adrian had made it clear on more than one occasion he didnʹt want to be involved with any dangerous adventures or use his spirit in a covert way. In Las Vegas, for example, heʹd simply accompanied us in an observerʹs role. Of course, heʹd also been drunk most of the time, but that probably made no difference.
I took a few steps forward, but Adrian suddenly held out a hand to stop me. ʺWait—before you go with us, you need to know something.ʺ Dimitri started to protest, eyes glinting with impatience. ʺShe does,ʺ argued Adrian, meeting Dimitriʹs gaze squarely. ʺRose, if you escape . . . youʹre more or less confirming your guilt. Youʹll be a fugitive. If the guardians find you, they arenʹt going to need a trial or sentence to kill you on sight.ʺ
Four sets of eyes rested on me as the full meaning sank in. If I ran now and was caught, I was dead for sure. If I stayed, I had the slim chance that in my short time before trial, we might find evidence to save me. It wasnʹt impossible. But if nothing turned up, I was also most certainly dead. Either option was a gamble. Either one had the strong possibility of me not surviving.
Adrian looked as conflicted as I felt. We both knew I didnʹt have any good choices. He was simply worried and wanted me to know what I was risking. Dimitri, however . . . for him, there was no debate. I could see it all over his face. He was an advocate of rules and doing the proper thing. But in this case? With such bad odds? It was better to risk living as a fugitive, and if death came, better to face it fighting.
My death will not be penciled in on someoneʹs calendar.
ʺLetʹs go,ʺ I said.
We hurried out of the building, anxious to get moving with the plan. I couldnʹt help but comment to Adrian, ʺYouʹve got to be using a lot of spirit to pull off all those illusions on the guards.ʺ
ʺI am,ʺ he agreed. ʺAnd I donʹt really have the power to do it for very long. Lissa could probably make a dozen guardians think theyʹd seen ghosts. Me? I can barely make a few forget Eddie and Mikhail. Thatʹs why there had to be someone they remembered to attract the attention, and Dimitriʹs the ideal scapegoat.ʺ
ʺWell, thank you.ʺ I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. As warmth flowed between us, I didnʹt bother telling him I was a long way from being free yet. It would diminish his heroics. We had a lot of obstacles ahead, but I still appreciated him stepping up like this and respecting my decision to go along with the escape plan.
Adrian shot me a sidelong glance. ʺYeah, well, Iʹm supposed to be crazy, right?ʺ A flash of affection shone in his eyes. ʺAnd there isnʹt much I wouldnʹt do for you. The stupider, the better.ʺ
We emerged to the main floor, and I saw that Eddie had been right about guardian security. The halls and rooms were virtually deserted. Without a second glance, we hurried outdoors, and the fresh air seemed to renew my energy.
ʺNow what?ʺ I asked my rescuers.
ʺNow we take you to the getaway car,ʺ said Eddie.
The garages werenʹt far, but they werenʹt close either. ʺThatʹs a lot of open ground to cover,ʺ I said. I didnʹt bring up the obvious problem: me being killed if spotted.
ʺIʹm using spirit to keep us all vague and nondescript,ʺ said Adrian. More testing of his magic. He couldnʹt handle much more. ʺPeople wonʹt recognize us unless they stop and stare directly at us.ʺ
ʺWhich they probably wonʹt,ʺ said Mikhail. ʺIf anyone even notices us at all. Everyoneʹs too worried about themselves to pay much attention to others in all this chaos.ʺ
Looking around outside, I could see he was right. The jail building was far from the church, but by now, people whoʹd been near the blast had made their way to this part of Court. Some were running into their residences. Some were seeking guardians, hoping for protection. And some . . . some were going the same direction we were, toward the garages.
ʺPeople are freaked out enough to actually try to leave Court,ʺ I realized. Our group was moving as fast as we could with Adrian, who wasnʹt in the shame shape as dhampirs. ʺThe garages will be crowded.ʺ Both official Court vehicles and visiting guests parked in the same area.
ʺThat could help us,ʺ said Mikhail. ʺMore chaos.ʺ
With so many distractions in my own reality, I couldnʹt plunge completely into Lissaʹs. A light brush of the bond found her safe, over in the palace.
ʺWhatʹs Lissa doing during all of this?ʺ I asked.
Believe me, I was glad she wasnʹt involved with this busting-me-out-of-jail madness. But, as Adrian had noted, her ability with spirit could have gone much farther than his here. And now, looking back on it all, it was obvious she had known about this plan. That had been her secret.
ʺLissa needs to stay innocent. She canʹt be linked to any part of the escape or explosion,ʺ replied Dimitri, eyes fixed ahead on his goal. His tone was firm. He still regarded her as his savior. ʺShe has to keep herself visible with the other royals. So does Christian.ʺ He almost smiled. Almost. ʺThose two would certainly be my first suspects if something exploded.ʺ
ʺBut the guardians wonʹt suspect them once they realize the blast
wasnʹt caused by magic,ʺ I mused. Mikhailʹs earlier words returned to me. ʺAnd hey, where did you guys get a hold of C4? Military grade explosives are kind of extreme, even for you.ʺ
No one answered me because three guardians suddenly leapt out into our path. Apparently, they werenʹt all out at the church. Dimitri and I surged ahead of our group, moving as one, just as we always had in battle together. Adrian had said the illusion heʹd stretched over our group wouldnʹt hold if anyone was facing us directly. I wanted to make sure Dimitri and I were the first line of contact with these guardians, in the hopes they wouldnʹt recognize the others behind us. I threw myself into the fight without hesitation, defensive instincts kicking in. But in those milliseconds, the reality of what I was doing truly sank in.
Iʹd fought guardians before and always felt guilty about it. Iʹd taken on the ones at Tarasov Prison, as well as the queenʹs guard during my arrest. I hadnʹt really known any of them, though. Just realizing they were my colleagues had been bad enough . . . but now? Now I was facing one of the most difficult challenges in my life, as small as it seemed. After all, three guardians were an easy match for me and Dimitri. The problem was—I knew these guardians. Two of them Iʹd run into quite a bit after graduation. They worked at Court and had always been kind to me.
The third guardian wasnʹt just someone I knew—she was a friend. Meredith, one of the few girls in my class at St. Vladimirʹs. I saw the flash of uneasiness in her eyes, a sentiment mirroring my own. This felt wrong to her too. But, she was a guardian now, and like me, she had had duty drilled into her throughout her life. She believed I was a criminal. She could see I was free and in attack mode. Procedure dictated she take me down, and honestly, I wouldnʹt have expected anything less. Itʹs what I would have done had our roles been reversed. This was life and death.
Last Sacrifice (6) Page 4