“The resistance,” I whispered. “If they all came forward, volunteered to be harvested—”
“Unless there are fifty, sixty of them hidden away, it won’t help. No one would volunteer to spend their lives in that kind of torment.”
“You want us to run.” I couldn’t imagine my brother, my brave, kind older brother, so ready to abandon these people to the darkness. But then, he didn’t know about Nina—he’d never believe me capable of making these choices, either.
“You want to stay?” he asked, incredulous.
“You said yourself that Lethe will fall without them.” I gestured at the Renewables ranged out behind us, all watching for guards. “I’m the reason they’re going free. I have to stay and figure out a way to fix the city. No matter what.”
Basil fixed his eyes on the ground ahead of us. “You know that’s how I got started, too?”
“I know.”
His hand brushed mine, then turned and wrapped around my fingers, the way it used to when I was a child. “You were right to let them go,” he said softly. “It’s easy to justify a monstrosity in light of the greater good. I don’t know whether—I don’t know what the answer is. But it was wrong to keep them there.”
Before, I would’ve pulled my hand from his, angry, hurt that he was no longer the brother I knew. But now, listening to the marching footsteps of the freed Renewables, of our tiny, dedicated army, I didn’t. It was easy to say what he’d done was wrong when speaking required no answer, no action. Still, the words meant something. And I let him keep hold of my hand.
The harvesting room was not far from the chambers where the Renewables were held. Basil explained that his workshop and the other experimental laboratories were all branches off of the harvesting room, for easy access to the machines when it came to making adjustments.
I tried not to imagine my brother calmly and casually making notes and turning dials and controls while a captive Renewable hung suspended, screaming silently as his power was torn away. I tried not to imagine him using that stolen power in his work.
But as we walked, hand in hand, I knew that Basil and I would never be as we were. We’d never be big brother and little sister, it would never be simple and trusting again. I didn’t know if I could ever love him again.
No, that wasn’t true. I still loved him. In spite of everything, despite what I’d said and the things he’d done, he was my brother. And I loved him. I just didn’t know if I’d ever trust him again.
Nix thrummed against my neck, nestled close. Trust was hard to come by in this world beyond the Wall, but it could be found, if you looked hard enough. I had Nix; I had Oren. Most of all, I had myself. That was enough.
Basil didn’t know where Oren was being kept when I asked, but thought that maybe he’d be with the regular prisoners, the people detained for not having the proper papers or for starting brawls in the streets. I still hadn’t told anyone the truth about what Oren was—I was hoping no one had found out, that he was merely being kept with the drunks and the petty thieves. Basil promised to take me to find him once we freed Tansy.
When we reached the harvesting room, we stopped some distance back in the corridor to hold a whispered conference.
“There’ll be guards outside,” Basil said as the rest of us crowded around. “Probably two, but maybe four. If this is the door,” and he drew his finger across the ground, pushing out just enough magic to leave a dimly glowing trail behind, “then the two guards will be here and here. If there are four, the other two will be posted on the opposite wall of the hallway, here and here.” The floor was marked now with glowing X’s.
“Inside, the Renewable—Tansy—will most likely be in the harvesting column.” Basil drew a large oval on the other side of the door he’d drawn earlier, to indicate the room beyond, then etched a series of lines radiating out from a circle in the oval’s center. “The column is here,” he said, pointing at the circle. “These are catwalks. The entire thing is suspended over the machinery that powers the harvester, drawing the energy up to—to Prometheus’s chair.”
“How do you know so much?” Curio was staring at Basil, brows drawn inward suspiciously.
Basil opened his mouth, but Wesley got there first. “This is Basil Ainsley,” he said swiftly, watching my brother. “He’s the one who wrote the journal. And this is his sister, the girl whose picture is in it. He knows everything there is to know about Prometheus.”
Curio’s eyebrows lifted, lips parting as his mistrust shifted to awe. He and the others took Wesley’s words at face value, but I wasn’t so sure. I watched him, trying to find any sign that he’d recognized Basil as the man he’d pretended to serve for the past two years. But Wesley just gazed back, steady and unflinching.
Basil dropped his eyes. “When we get inside there may be some of Prometheus’s researchers working there. Let’s avoid killing them if we can. And let me get Tansy out. Tearing her out of the machinery would be more dangerous than just leaving her in there. The machines are designed to stop before the Renewables are in any danger of dying. It’ll hurt her to stay in it, but it won’t kill her.”
“Right,” I said, lifting my eyes to scan the faces of the Renewables around me. “Are we ready?”
• • •
There were only two guards. Curio was able to handle them both, but he was starting to sweat and shake and clearly didn’t have much left. I hoped that the other Renewables were half as adept at incapacitating enemies.
The entrance to the harvesting chamber itself had a complicated locking mechanism, but Basil pressed a series of brass knobs with incomprehensible symbols on them, then paused and looked at me. I nodded, and he pressed the last button.
The door hissed open, and we spilled into the room, down the catwalk.
The first thing I saw was a column of pale gold light and a human body suspended in it. The head was thrown back, muscles tense with pain, fingers bent into claws and toes curled in agony. Her features were obscured by the light and the angle, but I knew who it was—I recognized her hair, her height, the clothes she was wearing.
Tansy.
The second thing I saw was a series of machines arranged around the perimeter of the room, banks of levers and knobs and displays, many of them with exposed wires darting this way and that. Staircases led up to a second level and then a third, where there were more machines. Beyond the banks of machinery were sheets of darkened glass, no doubt opening onto individual experiment bays, but closed off when not in use. Chairs were arranged at each station, but they were all empty. No researchers. One station on the ground level was recognizable as Prometheus’s—his robes were draped over the back of the chair, somehow duller and smaller now that they weren’t being worn.
And the third thing I saw was Adjutant.
I froze, and Basil came to a halt beside me. The entry catwalk wasn’t wide enough for more than two, and the other Renewables were forced to stop behind us.
Adjutant strolled toward us, halting beside the column where Tansy hung suspended. “Miss Ainsley,” he said, as calm and polite as ever. “I thought as soon as I learned that the Renewables had escaped that you would be coming here. I’m gratified to find I was right.”
Seeing my face, he smiled. “Of course I know who you are,” he added. “Your brother spoke of you incessantly for the first year he lived here.”
Basil stepped forward, fists clenched. “You should have told me, Adjutant,” he spat, his voice taut with fury.
Adjutant inclined his torso in a slight bow, spreading one hand in a conciliatory gesture. There was some sort of machine on it, bands of metal around each finger, spreading over the back of his hand like an exoskeleton. “I live to serve you, Prometheus,” he said reverently. “My life and my actions have always only been to protect you.”
“Prometheus?” It was Curio, his face transformed by confusion and, slowly, loathing. I glanced at Wesley, but instead of seeming surprised, he only stood there, expression unreadable, his gaze on m
ine. Wesley worked in CeePo every day— perhaps it was stupid of me to have thought that he wouldn’t have recognized Prometheus, even out of uniform. The other Renewables behind us were murmuring bewilderment and anger, trying to understand what was happening.
“The rabble are turning on you, Lord.” Adjutant lifted his hand, stretching the other out toward the column containing Tansy. “Allow me.” That hand had a similar machine on it—as he turned towards the Renewables, I could see that the devices on each hand ran up over his shoulders and connected in a knot of copper and glass at the nape of his neck.
Before I could figure out what he was doing, a jolt of magic flowed from Tansy, into the device, and then out through his other hand. Basil knocked me to the metal catwalk with a clang, his body on top of mine—I felt the heat of the blast through my hair as I fell.
A man screamed—I jerked my head up in time to see the Renewables fall, every last one of them, writhing on the ground. By the time I shoved Basil off of me and dragged myself to my feet, all of them lay still. I could see flickers of magic there—they weren’t dead—but they were all incapacitated. Nix was no longer on my shoulder, but I couldn’t see it anywhere—whether it was in the pile of bodies or hiding somewhere else, I couldn’t tell.
“What did you do?” I screamed, turning back toward Adjutant, who was staring at his hand as though seeing it for the first time.
Basil got to his feet and pulled me back, ignoring my attempts to claw my way past him.
“He’s like us,” I gasped, holding onto the catwalk railing.
“No.” Basil was staring at Adjutant. “The device—the one I made to let others take over where I left off.”
“It’s perfect,” breathed Adjutant, still gazing at the hand that had delivered the blast. “You truly are more than human, Lord.”
“It’s not ready,” Basil said through gritted teeth. I could feel the fury behind his voice—I wondered why he didn’t just lash out, didn’t just try to get the machine away from Adjutant. “There are still flaws—it’s unstable, Adjutant. Dangerous for you; dangerous for her.” He jerked his chin toward Tansy, whose mouth I could see opened in a silent scream.
Adjutant lifted his eyes finally, gaze going from me to Basil. “Lord, I never wanted you to find out that Lark Ainsley was here.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
“But it was.” Adjutant sounded surprised, slightly wounded. “It’s my calling to keep you safe, Prometheus. To keep you from the hard decisions. I thought by presenting her to you after we’d learned the extent of her abilities you’d have no choice but to—”
“To use her?” Basil stepped forward, shoulders tense and eyes hard. “Like we’ve been using these others?”
Adjutant’s eyes widened, and for a moment I could see a hint of the madness he’d showed in the audience chamber. When he’d told me to show respect for my god. “It has always been in the name of the greater good, Lord.”
Basil shook his head. “It may have started that way, but it’s not that way anymore. It’s not about just saving ourselves—we have to be worthy of salvation.”
There was silence for a moment while Adjutant struggled to digest this. My mind raced, trying to go over the options. I still had Oren’s knife, but there was no chance I’d get close enough to Adjutant to use it. And while Oren might have been able to throw it, my aim was nowhere good enough.
But that wasn’t the only weapon I had. The blackout device. In a place like this, the blast would disrupt every machine in the entire room. The one Adjutant was using to imitate Basil’s powers—and the ones holding Tansy captive.
I slipped my hand into my pocket. All I had to do was throw it hard enough at the floor for the impact to set it off. But I remembered what Basil had said—jerking Tansy out of this machinery could kill her. Surely cutting power abruptly would do the same.
Adjutant’s gaze swung over to me, burning. “This is just proof of what I’ve known for a long time,” he said quietly, his voice low and tight. “You’re too soft. Too trusting. Even I can’t protect you from every tough decision—and when I try, you . . . disappoint me. You’re letting this girl ruin in one night everything we’ve worked together for years to create.”
“She’s my sister.”
“And I am your Adjutant!” A fleck of spittle lingered on Adjutant’s lips as he breathed heavily, struggling with himself. Then he straightened, in control once more. “I didn’t want to do this, but you must be shown the truth. Your innocent, kindhearted sister consorts with monsters—her lover is one of the Empty Ones.”
Adjutant gestured toward one of the experiment bays across the room, the one I’d guessed was Prometheus’s station, and on cue its dark glass cleared and the cell lit up from within.
Oren.
He lifted his head—he hadn’t been able to see out either, and evidently the windows were soundproof as well. Shock staggered him backward a pace as he saw me—then he threw himself against the wall of his prison, pounding his fists against the glass. I saw him screaming soundlessly, shouting to be let out, to be allowed to go to my side. His lips formed my name as he met my gaze, and then he launched himself forward. A sound tore its way out of my throat as he threw his entire body against the glass and fell to the ground.
My heart was tearing itself in two as I watched him dragging himself upright again, dazed and bruised, but I’d seen the madness in Adjutant’s face. I didn’t know what he’d do if I moved from where I stood.
“You see,” Adjutant said, moving over toward the banks of machines in front of the glass box that held Oren, “he’s a savage even when he’s human. There’s no room in our new world for monsters like him.”
“Let him go,” Basil said coldly. “I trust Lark.” But I could see the confusion in Basil’s face. First I’d asked him to trust a pixie—now he was being asked to trust this.
“You don’t understand,” said Adjutant. “Let me show you.” He reached out and pulled a lever. My head rang with magic as something shifted, sucking the power out of the cell. Then Oren was gone, and in his place was the shadow.
It snarled soundlessly and threw itself against the glass with ten times the force Oren himself had been able to muster.
I couldn’t look at Basil. I couldn’t look at Adjutant, either. I could only watch as the thing that had been Oren threw itself at the glass over and over and over, mindless, full of rage and savagery and hunger. All I could hear was the dull thud of Oren’s body hitting the glass, his muffled snarls. My eyes burned.
“You see,” said Adjutant. “You see what she is. These are the creatures she pities. She wants to see them take over. She wants to ruin everything we’ve done.”
“No,” said Basil. I lifted my head with an effort, my eyes streaming. “What we’ve been doing, you and I, is wrong.”
Adjutant let the lever slide back into place, and I felt the ambient magic sliding back into place with it. The Orenmonster dropped to the floor of his cell, sides heaving. “Lord, allow me to remove this girl from your presence. Please, she’s infected your—”
“She’s done nothing!” shouted Basil. This was the voice of Prometheus, the voice of Adjutant’s god. “It has nothing to do with her—or this creature. We’re the monsters, Adjutant. Look around—this isn’t the new world. This isn’t right. This isn’t what we set out to do.”
Adjutant gazed at Basil. Beyond him I could see Oren, himself again, but too dazed and injured by his shadow self’s attempts to escape to do more than lie there, gasping.
“You’ve lost your way, Lord,” Adjutant said softly, his hand falling on the robes laid over the chair. “Lost sight of the utopia we’re creating here.”
“You’re the one who’s lost his way,” Basil replied, fists clenched. I could see tears standing in his eyes and realized that this was costing him as much as it had cost me to stand up to him. Adjutant has been with me since the beginning, he’d said.
His oldest—his only—friend.
Basil stood silently, opening and closing his fists, unable to speak.
“But the people must have direction.” Adjutant’s wide, staring eyes fixed on the wall above us. He reached for the robes on the chair, picking them up slowly, caressing them like something precious and beautiful. “If their god falters, then a new one must rise and take his place.”
I stared, drawn in by the insanity in his gaze, the way his eyes were fixed on something none of the rest of us could see—some vision of the twisted paradise he sought.
“Prometheus is dead.” Adjutant slowly swung the robes up and settled them over his shoulders. “Long live Prometheus.”
And then he reached out for Tansy again, thrusting his hand out toward Basil. A beam of violent purple light shot forth, hitting my brother square in the chest and throwing him back against the far wall with the force of the blast.
“NO!” The word tore from my throat as I lunged for him, but it was too late. The beam stopped, but crackling energy pinned Basil against the wall, several feet off the ground. He struggled, but the magic containing him was so thick I couldn’t even sense him behind it.
Adjutant turned to me. I threw up a barrier a millisecond before he turned the same blast on me. The force of it drove me backward until I hit the handrail of the catwalk, and I braced myself against it, throwing everything I had into my shield.
Oren was pressed against the glass, staring, his eyes anguished. Basil was still pinned, unable to speak or move. Adjutant laughed, shoving his other arm deeper into Tansy’s aura of magic.
“No wonder he didn’t share this with me,” he said, his wild grin only a flash of white teeth behind the violet beam spilling off my shield. “It’s glorious. Dare I say it, divine. I’d hoard it for myself as well.”
I had no strength to answer, every fiber of my being thrown into the shields. I didn’t have enough to do anything but block his attack—no way to enact a countermeasure. And I wasn’t going to last much longer.
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