I tracked her down once. I can do it again.
Best Case Scenario: The risky plan I’ve put in motion works.
Worst Case Scenario: The Commander tries to kill me before I’m ready for him, the northern city-states won’t commit troops against Rowansmark, or I fail to find Ian and Rachel.
None of those are options I can accept. If I have to grovel before the Commander, if I have to wear chains, if I have to pretend to be nothing but the investment he wants me to be, I’ll do it. Nothing is going to stop me from keeping my promises.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF–NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
CHAPTER TEN
RACHEL
I wake to the jostling of the moving wagon. My mouth feels like I scoured it with sand, and my cheekbone aches where Ian punched me. I’m lying on my back in the wagon bed. Every bump of the wheels sends my head careening into something hard. In the few seconds it takes for my brain to convince my body that it’s time to wake up and get moving, my face smacks against it three more times.
“Ouch.” I force my eyes open and immediately wish I hadn’t.
Ian sits near me, his hands clasped in his lap while he stares at me in the weak light of early morning. How long have I been unconscious? A few hours? A day? Are we still heading west? The wagon shudders again as the wheels roll across the crumbling road beneath us, and my head slams into a crate of supplies that rests under the bench to my left.
I dig my elbows into my bedroll and try to sit up, but I can’t pull my legs into position. Something is wrapped around my ankles.
“I tied you to one of the posts on the back of the wagon.” A ghost of his charming smile flits across Ian’s face, though his eyes are hard.
“Good for you.”
“You should see your face.” He reaches out as if to touch my cheek, and I bare my teeth. He laughs, but there’s no amusement in it. “Heidi and Samuel think you were trying to escape, but they don’t know you like I do.” He leans closer. “You aren’t the type who runs away, even when you should. I think you were eavesdropping instead. Learn anything interesting?”
The conversation between Ian and Heidi flashes through my mind in rapid snatches. Ian’s desire to kill me as soon as possible. Heidi’s careless attitude toward what she believes is my certain death.
And the tech that waits for Logan at Rowansmark. Tech that can summon an entire army of tanniyn to annihilate Rowansmark’s enemies in moments. Tech that will set a trap even Logan can’t plan his way out of.
Which is why, even though I want to pull the knife out of my boot, sever the rope that binds me, and escape at my first opportunity, I’m not going to do it. I’m going inside Rowansmark, because that’s my best chance at disabling the tech before Logan arrives.
“Samuel and Heidi were right,” I say as I rub my fingers against the dull ache that throbs along my bruised cheekbone. “I was trying to escape.”
Ian’s jaw muscles bunch. “You never try to escape. You run headlong toward whatever is most dangerous. Courageous stupidity. That’s you.”
I ignore him and scoot closer to the wagon’s entrance so that I can sit with my knees pressed against my chest. A length of rope wraps three times around my ankles in a figure eight and then disappears out of the canvas flap that covers the exit. I shuffle my boots against my bedroll as if I’m trying to get comfortable, and feel a surge of satisfaction when my knife moves slightly against my left ankle.
Ian must have searched me for weapons when he knocked me unconscious and took me from Lankenshire, and he’s confident he doesn’t need to search me again. It’s the only explanation for why he hasn’t discovered the stolen blade I carry. It doesn’t explain why he let me keep the lightweight armor I wear under my tunic, but maybe he figured as long as he knows about it, my advantage is lost.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says.
I look at him, at his sharp profile, his close-cut hair, his eyes burning with miserable hate when he watches me. “What doesn’t matter?”
“Whatever you overheard. Whatever you think you know. You can’t escape your fate, Rachel.” Ian leans forward and tugs on the rope that binds my ankles. It barely moves.
“Watch me.”
He shakes his head. “Look at you. You can’t use your right arm. Your lungs whistle when you breathe. You just slept through me hauling you into the wagon and tying you up because your body doesn’t have what it takes to keep going. The only reason you’re still making threats is because you don’t know how to give up when you’re beaten.”
I want to argue with him. Tell him he doesn’t have what it takes to beat me, not on his best day, but the truth is he’s right. I’m in no shape to fight him physically, and I can’t risk inciting the rage that fuels him. I have to make it to Rowansmark alive.
“I guess you have me all figured out,” I say, my voice quiet.
The skin between his brows puckers as he studies me. I look away. Let him think I’m cowering. I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes to stay alive long enough to get into Rowansmark. After that . . . well, after that I don’t know. I’ll have to figure out how to escape. And how to hide from every tracker inside the city’s wall. And how to find and disable tech even though I understand tech about as well as I understand how to properly host a fancy dinner party.
Ian’s right about me. I don’t run away, even when I probably should. I rush headlong into danger if I think by doing so I can protect those I love. I operate on instinct—courageous stupidity, Ian called it—but instinct and courage might not be enough this time. Especially when I’m in no shape to win a fight. Or to run away if I start to lose. Since fighting and running are the two mainstays of any plan I’ve ever made, I’m going to have to think like someone else. Someone who can still see scenarios when none exist and who can grab small opportunities and leverage them into huge wins.
I’m going to have to plan like Logan.
“You look awful, by the way.” Ian’s voice is casual. “You’re dirty, your hair is an absolute mess, and I’m pretty sure if you don’t get some medicine for that nasty wound on your arm, it’s going to get infected. We wouldn’t want that.” The sly malevolence in his gaze sets my teeth on edge.
“Going to be hard to convince Logan to give you what you want if I die before we reach Rowansmark,” I say, as if I don’t already know that Ian has no intention of letting me make it that far. Not if he gets a chance to come after me when Samuel is distracted elsewhere.
“Why do you even want to live?” he asks. There’s a desperate curiosity in his voice. “Your family is dead. Your city is gone. Most of your friends are gone too. And you’re to blame. You, Logan, and the Commander. Don’t you want to just close your eyes and never wake up?”
I wrap my arms around my stomach as if the broken pieces inside of me might pierce my skin and fly away, leaving me with nothing, but I know Ian isn’t really asking why I want to live. He’s looking for a reason of his own to keep going.
I don’t want to give him one.
But Logan would. Logan would see this as an opportunity to soften his opponent. To gain a foothold. I’m not sure there’s a foothold left to be found in Ian’s madness, but Samuel’s words still echo in my head, and I can’t look at Ian the monster without also seeing Ian the boy with broken dreams.
“I have to believe that there are people still worth living for. That I’m worth living for,” I say, remembering Oliver’s words to me as we traveled to the Commander’s compound for the reading of Dad’s will. “Hope is precious, and it’s worth clinging to.”
“Even when it looks like there’s nothing left to hope for?” His eyes burn with misery.
“There’s always something left. There are second, third, and fourth chances. There are new friends.” I think of Quinn, stoically dedicated to helping me heal, even when it meant stripping his own secrets bare. Willow, unafraid to tell me
the truth no one else wanted to say. Frankie admitting he was wrong about Tree People. Thom taking Logan’s place on the bridge. And then I think of Logan. Of the way he used to look at me when he thought Dad wasn’t watching us. Of the way he looks at me now. “And there are old friends we’ve underestimated. There’s a legacy of love in our lives that gives us value, even after we’ve made mistakes.”
He stares at me for a long moment, his face pale and tense. “I don’t think hope keeps you alive at all. I think you’re still here because you’re too stubborn to die.” His long, pale fingers grip the rope and pull on it again. “I actually like that about you.”
“I don’t care what you like about me.”
“You never care what anyone thinks of you. You never care what others think you should do.” His fingers clench the rope with sudden force. “Even when it costs you. Even when it costs them.”
The memory of Melkin’s dark eyes pleading with me while his blood spilled over my hands cuts into me, and it’s difficult to breathe.
“What did I cost you, Ian?” I ask, Samuel’s words burning against the back of my mind. I don’t want to think about Ian, broken and lost, trying to find a way to still see some of his dreams come true even if it takes more than his spirit can bear to pay. “What did I do to you that is worth going through so much trouble to hurt me?”
“You didn’t keep your promise.” He sounds hurt. As if he has a right to be hurt when he’d already murdered eight children and destroyed our entire city-state before I ever said I’d get the device from Logan and give it to Ian to use against the Commander.
I stare at the pain in his eyes and realize he truly believes he’s the one who’s been wronged. And maybe in the beginning that was true, but Ian’s done too much between then and now to pretend his hands are clean. Maybe he isn’t pretending. Maybe he believes what he needs to believe in order to keep what little sanity he has left.
“Think about what you’re saying.” I make an effort to keep my voice calm, but I can’t quite keep the anger out of it. This is the boy who killed Sylph. Having a civil conversation with him feels like a betrayal of her. “You asked me to get the device while we were running for our lives from the Carrington army, and I was trying to get to my best friend, who was dying because of you.”
“No, she was dying because Logan didn’t—”
“She died because of you and your stupid pain atonement vendetta! Because you assumed Logan was loyal to the Commander. Because you assumed he knew about his background.” My voice rises, and I clench my fists as grief and anger churn inside of me until I can’t tell them apart. “And because you couldn’t be bothered to confront Logan at the start and clear the air, my city burned and thousands died. Sylph died.”
“I was following orders! Whipping my father to death wasn’t enough to reclaim our family’s honor.” His voice shakes. “To pay for his crime. Not with the tech in enemy hands. I had to reclaim the tech and punish those who took it. I had to make it clear that no one should mess with Rowansmark again. Sylph wouldn’t have had to die if—”
“If you hadn’t killed her to make a point!” I pull my arms tighter across my body to keep myself from lunging toward him. To keep him from defending himself and killing me before I get a chance to go after Rowansmark’s tech. “Do you understand what you’ve done? You took mothers from their children. Sons from their fathers. You ripped families and friends apart and for what, Ian? So that Logan would feel pain? Is that really worth ruining so many lives?”
“Logan ruined my life!” The pain in his eyes disappears in a blink, replaced by the hard, vicious brilliance of undiluted rage. “Because of him, I’ve had to become the kind of person who could do those things. And then I saw a way out. You would give me the controller. I would take it back to Rowansmark, restore my family’s honor, and I would be done. I could stop killing and walk away. But you didn’t keep your word. And I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop!” His breath hitches, and two bright spots of color burn against the paleness of his cheeks.
I recognize his fury, the well of impossible darkness that stretches beneath his words, consuming logic and spewing lies in its place. A small voice in my head whispers that Ian is my future if I let the hatred I feel for the Commander and the deep need I feel for revenge become everything that I live for. If I run on desperation and vengeance, forgetting to count the cost to others and to myself, I’ll dishonor the forgiveness Eloise gave to me over the death of her husband, the sacrifices Quinn made for me, and the steady belief Logan has in me even when it seems I’m proving him wrong.
Once upon a time, I would’ve ignored that voice. Shoved it into the silence inside of me and refused to consider it because it would only slow me down. I was so sure vengeance was the answer. So sure my pain would mean something if I could deliver the same.
I meet Ian’s eyes and speak slowly as I fumble my way through something that feels like a truth I should’ve realized a long time ago. “Logan didn’t ruin your life, Ian. When something is ruined it can never be rebuilt. It can’t recover. The things others do to us can break us, but we can heal. But when we twist the pain and use it as justification for the choices we make, we lose ourselves. We hurt ourselves by shoving the pain away like if we just don’t look at it, it won’t exist. By using it as the fuel that gets us through every day.”
“What a bunch of . . . I didn’t hurt myself. Logan did.” Ian sounds furious, but the pain is back in his eyes. “My mother was so busy grieving for her lost child that she never saw me. Barely spoke to me. I tried to reach her. I tried, but one day she just decided life without Logan was too much to bear, and it didn’t matter that she had me or that I loved her. She was gone.”
His voice shakes, and a vein bulges in his neck. “And my father was so busy trying to get Logan back that he didn’t care that his actions could leave us permanently disgraced. And what did Logan do after all of that? After my parents gave their lives for him? He took the controller back to the man who started all of this misery in the first place.”
“Logan didn’t know any of that. You’ve lost yourself, Ian.” I let my arms fall to my sides, and though I still see the boy who killed Sylph, I also see the boy who only wanted his mother to love him and his father to think of him. “You took that misery, you multiplied it a hundred times over, and you spread it over people who never hurt you. Never wronged you. The Commander’s actions cost you two people you loved. Three, if you count Logan.”
“I don’t love Logan.”
“You would have if he’d been allowed to grow up in Rowansmark as part of your family.”
He stares at me in silence.
“Ian, you lost two people. And you used the pain of that loss to justify killing thousands.”
“You and I are the same.” His chest heaves as if he’s been running, and he shoves his words at me like he wants to hurt me. “We’re the same, Rachel. You said as long as it didn’t cost you the few people you loved, you’d do anything to destroy the Commander. You understood that justice requires sacrifice. Don’t pretend to be better than me.”
A chill spreads across my skin as I think of the narrow line between justice and revenge at any cost, and of how close I came to crossing it. How I didn’t care that the line existed.
How having Logan, Quinn, Willow, and Sylph in my life saved me from making the kind of choices that would leave me just as broken and desperate as Ian. Ian needed someone to keep him from crossing that line, too, but all he had were fanatics who told him a pain atonement bloodbath during his quest to retrieve the missing tech would restore the only thing he still had left—his family’s honor.
“You’re right. I did say I’d do anything to destroy the Commander.” I wrap my hands around my ankles and feel the comforting weight of the knife pressed against my ankle. “But I was wrong. Justice and revenge aren’t the same thing.”
His laugh is cruel. “It’s a little hard to take you seriously when just yesterday you promised to keep coming a
fter me until you kill me to make me pay for what I’ve done.”
I meet his eyes and raise my chin. “I meant every word I said. The difference between us, Ian, is that I’m not willing to kill anyone but those who absolutely deserve it.”
“You’re tied to a wagon, surrounded by trackers, and too injured and weak to even defend yourself. You’re stupid if you think you can get the best of me.” He gets to his feet, his legs braced against the constant motion of the wheels. “And I don’t care what you say about hope. About second chances. You’ve used up your chances, Rachel. You and Logan both.”
His voice drops until his words are nothing but a breath whispered across the space between us. “You and I are the same. You know it. I know it. Justice requires sacrifice. The moment Samuel turns his back on you, I’m going to deliver the justice you so desperately deserve.”
Without another word, he leaps from the wagon, and I’m alone.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF–NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LOGAN
Lankenshire is a distant gleam of white-gray stone on a hill behind us, only intermittently visible through the thick clusters of tall maples, hickories, and oaks.
It took us nearly three hours to work our way out of the tunnels. Once we reached the northeast exit and met up with the handful of soldiers and horses the Commander had requested from the vast army camped across the fields surrounding Lankenshire, Willow announced that the device was actually four hundred yards northwest of the city. When the Commander cursed her for costing us extra time, Willow coolly asked him if he’d rather have had the location announced in the hearing of the few trackers who’d survived the dungeon assault. Covering the ground between our exit point and the device was slow going in the dark, even with the horses, because we didn’t want to leave a trail beside the tunnel’s entrance advertising our new direction.
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