Kingdom of Mirrors and Roses

by A. W. Cross

  If he’s hurt, it’ll be my fault. I never should’ve kissed him, not there. I knew it was dangerous, he’d warned me, and I just… I put him in danger.

  Was this the right turn? Why hadn’t she paid more attention?

  Because you weren’t planning to go back, ever.

  The panic that had been stalking her, padding after her in the shadows finally bit, sinking its teeth deep into her chest. She was never going to find her way back to him. They would find him first, and they would kill him, and he would die with her anger ringing in his ears.

  You are a monster.

  He’d trusted her enough to tell her his secrets, to share his grief, and she’d gored him with the blade that would hurt him the most.

  He was wrong. But so was I.

  The panic strengthened its hold, savaging her between its teeth.

  Stop. Slow down and think. You have to get control of yourself or you’ll keep going around in circles. It may not be too late.

  She stopped, leaning her palm against the roughed wall of the tunnel. The cool surface soothed her, and she pressed her entire body against it, willing the chill to drive the panic back to the shadows where it belonged.

  Focus. Look around you and think.

  She took a deep breath and raised her head.

  What do you see?

  Tunnel, after tunnel, after tunnel.

  What else? That tunnel there, on the left. With the long gouge in the bottom. There. That way.

  She ran down the length of the passage until she came to another crossroads.

  And again. Pay attention. There, it’s that one. And now a left. And—

  The entrance was open.

  He would never leave it unlocked. I’m too late.

  Fear nipped at her heels again. She remembered what the dove-haired woman had said: If you get there and something feels wrong, get out of there as soon as possible. Do you understand?

  Something was definitely wrong, but she’d be damned if she was going to run away again. She slowed, keeping her steps as silent as possible, pressing her back against the wall and out of the light spilling over the threshold. Despite the burning in her lungs begging her to take a deep breath, she forced herself to breathe through her nose, slowly and evenly. She strained to hear Cillian’s attackers, but all that greeted her was silence.

  And then a low, anguished moan.

  Cillian.

  Forgetting the woman’s warning, forgetting anything but the thought of Cillian in pain, Beauty ran again. She barreled through the door, her eyes darting wildly around as she searched for him.

  There. On the floor next to the ratty old couch.

  “Cillian!” She dropped to her knees beside him. His shirt was off, and the mesh musculature on his chest was a twisted, tattered ruin, exposing the dull plating underneath. As she watched, his chest moved, but so slowly, so minutely, she wasn’t sure if it was just her hope breathing a life into him that wasn’t there.

  “Cillian?”

  Did the muscle along his jaw just move?

  She cupped Cillian’s face between her hands and pressed her lips to his forehead. Please, wake up. Her hair fell over her shoulder and brushed his cheek.

  “You came back.” It was barely more than a whisper. His shoulder jerked, a shudder that traveled all the way down to his fingers. Still, his eyes stayed closed.

  “You have to wake up, Cillian.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed his mouth. “No. If you’re here with me, I don’t want to ever wake up.”

  “You have to. This isn’t real. If you don’t wake up, you’ll die.” What was wrong with him? Had he been hit on the head? She ran her hands through his hair, trying to find a wound.

  “I love you.”

  Her hands froze, his hair slipping through them. Did he just say he loves me? Maybe he had, but the man was barely conscious. He could’ve thought he was talking to Cybel, for goodness’ sake.

  She leaned down to kiss him anyway. Just in case. He made one last attempt to take a breath, then…

  Nothing. His chest didn’t move again.

  “Cillian?” She pushed on his shoulder. “Cillian!” His face was so peaceful, his body still. He can’t be dead. He can’t be. She placed her head against his ruined chest and held her breath.

  Faintly, so faintly, his heart answered her. He was still alive.

  Her mind raced. What could be wrong with him? She’d never seen a cyborg before she’d met him, much less nursed one. Where was Cybel?

  She raised her head, but she could see no sign of the robot anywhere. “Cybel? Cybel!” There was no answer. Where was the little bot? Surely she wouldn’t have abandoned Cillian?

  Beauty got to her feet, her legs still shaking with adrenalin. Cybel had to be around here somewhere. “Cybel?” There was a suspiciously familiar form half-hidden by a pile of junk. Had whoever attacked Cillian hurt Cybel too? Heat blossomed behind Beauty’s eyes at the thought of anyone abusing the robot in any way.

  “Cybel?” Beauty eased her small body out of the debris. Cybel’s eyes were blank and dark, her limbs stiff. “Cybel?” Beauty gave her a gentle shake. Had she gotten between Cillian and whoever attacked him? It was certainly something she would do. Affection for her overwhelmed Beauty, and she crushed the bot to her chest. “Oh Cybel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t get here soon enough, and now Cillian won’t wake up, and I’m afraid he’ll die, and—”

  “Beauty?” The little body moved in her arms. “You came back! I knew you would. I told Cillian—”

  “Cybel! You’re all right. What happened?” She set Cybel upright onto her wheels, the bot’s wide round eyes glowing as she tilted her head up to Beauty’s.

  “I have no idea. There was a knock at the door. I thought it was you, but Cillian…he must’ve sensed something I didn’t because he told me to deactivate myself and said to go look for you, but I didn’t know how long to wait and then you were here and—”

  Beauty dropped to her knees and hugged Cybel again. “It’s okay, Cybel. None of that matters now.” She pointed to where Cillian lay, still not moving. “He’s alive, but he won’t wake up.”

  “At all? He hasn’t said anything?” Her interface flashed with concern.

  “No, not really.” The lie lit up her face with warmth. “Well, he—” Then she saw it. Only a short distance away from Cillian, partly obscured, was the crumpled body of a man.

  Cybel spotted it at the same time. “Who is that?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see him when I came in.” Beauty dug a large metal bar from the junk pile and walked over to the prone form on her tiptoes, trying to be as quiet as possible.

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Shhh. I don’t know.” She raised the bar over her head, nearly dropping it when the man’s face came into view. Although it was twisted away from her in profile, it was a face she recognized. The man who’d been speaking with Cillian. The man who’d danced with her at the ball. The man who was going to destroy The Vault. “That’s Gideon Black.”

  “Gideon Black? Are you sure?” The little robot sounded impressed.

  “Yes.” She would never forget his face. Her gut had warned her the first time she’d seen him—with good reason, it seemed. She knelt by his side. He was definitely dead, his neck broken. Nausea roiled in her stomach, warring with relief. “I’m glad he’s dead.”

  A low moan snatched their attention away from the corpse. “Cillian!” Beauty threw the metal bar to the ground and sprinted back to him, she and Cybel nearly running each other over in the race to get to his side. Cybel got there first.

  “Cillian?” She shook him lightly. Her tiny hand on his massive shoulder spurred on the tears behind Beauty’s eyes, and again she forced them back down. They would get through this. Cybel would know what to do.

  “I have no idea what to do.” Cybel pulled on one of the scorched shreds of mesh, driving yet another moan from Cillian’s lips.

  “What? I thought—”

 
; “I’m an assistant,” she pointed out.

  “His chest is mostly intact, even though the outside isn’t. Is it possible he shut himself down? Like you did?”

  Cybel rolled around Cillian, as though looking for a switch. “I don’t think he works that way. Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “I’ll be right back.” The robot sped away, leaving Beauty alone with Cillian. She leaned over him again, smoothing back his hair. “If you can hear me, you’re going to be okay. Cybel is just looking for something to help you, and then—”

  Cybel zoomed back in, brandishing something triumphantly in her hand. She was so excited she rolled over Cillian’s hand. He shuddered, but still didn’t open his eyes. “Whoops.”

  “What do you have?” It looked like nothing more than a small chunk of rubber. What were they supposed to do with that?

  “I don’t think Cillian shut himself down, but I think his body shut itself down.”

  “Aren’t they one and the same?”

  “No. And yes. They are, but you know how if humans get scared, they faint? It’s like that. A self-defense mechanism he can’t control. He mentioned it once, but I’ve never seen it in action.”

  “So how’s that bit of rubber going to help?” It looked so innocuous, sitting there in Cybel’s tiny palm.

  “It’s not rubber, it’s...well, I don’t know what it is, only what it does. Watch.” Cybel placed the device on the plane of Cillian’s exposed chest. “Don’t do that,” she warned as Beauty moved to hold his hand. “Actually, if I were you, I would stand back.”

  Beauty retreated a few steps and held her breath. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, all hell broke loose.

  A scream tore from his mouth as his spine arched in an impossible curve, his heels scraping the floor. Over and over, his body went into spasm, twitching as though something inside him was trying to break free.

  “Cybel, what’s happening to him?”

  “It should restart his system. Any minute now, it should—”

  His hand slammed across his chest, his fingers splayed, clutching at his heart.

  “It’s killing him! Cybel, we have to—” Beauty couldn’t endure it any longer. She wasn’t going to stand there and watch him be shocked to death. She threw herself toward him, grasping for the device.

  “Beauty, no! Stop—”

  Just before her hand covered his, he closed his fingers around the device and tore it free, flinging it to the other side of the room. She tried to stop, but her momentum threw her over his outstretched legs. She hit the floor hard, winding herself and scraping the side of her face on the floor. Stars danced before her eyes.

  “Beauty?”

  That voice. Cillian. He’s alive.

  Despite the flashing threads across her vision, she forced herself to her hands and knees. “Cillian? I—”

  Thick arms wrapped around her and crushed her to an even thicker chest. Underneath was a heart beating loud and strong. It was the most amazing sound in the world. His lips grazed the top of her head then he gently pulled away, sitting back on his haunches. His eyes bored into her, lit from within by his pale light.

  “You came back.”

  “Of course I came back. I—”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  She was so giddy it was all she could do not to laugh and cry at the same time. “Me too. I shouldn’t have left you. I—”

  “I never should’ve demanded that you leave everyone you know and love behind—”

  “Cillian.” She leaned over and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I never should’ve called you a monster.”

  He gripped her fingers in his. “I was acting like one.”

  She still had so much to say to him, but it could wait. She traced her hand over the ruins of his chest. “I thought you were dead.”

  He smiled wryly. “So did I.”

  “So what happened?” She pulled away from him and stood then helped him to his feet. His legs nearly gave out and she draped his arm over her shoulder and ushered him over to the couch. “Sit. Rest. Then talk. Do you want some water?”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine. Really,” he insisted at her raised eyebrow. He nodded over to the corner where Gideon’s corpse lay. “It seems Gideon decided to pay me a visit.” He closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he reached over and clutched Beauty’s hands.

  The tremors in his human one took her by surprise. Was he really okay? “Cillian?”

  “I just— I’m so glad you weren’t here. I don’t know what would’ve happened.” His eyes were filled with an anguish that made her heart ache. “I wouldn’t have been able to protect you.”

  “Cillian, shhh. I wasn’t here. I’m fine. Are you?”

  “I will be.” He glared over at Cybel. “You didn’t have to turn it all the way up, you know.”

  The bot spun in a circle then rolled up next to him. “I wanted to be sure it would work.”

  “It did. So thank you.” He glanced up at Beauty. “It’s a failsafe they put into bodies like mine—the ones that are more machine than flesh. When my body takes a certain amount of damage, it shuts down to try to avoid more.” He rapped his chest with his fist. “I’m an expensive piece of tech, you know.”

  “What the hell did Gideon do to you?”

  “He shot me. Whatever it is, it’s under the couch. But we can’t worry about that now.” He stood up, gingerly testing his weight on his legs. “When Gideon turns up missing, they’ll come looking for him.”

  “Do you think they’re on their way right now?”

  “No. I think my assassination was supposed to be a secret. Otherwise, I can’t imagine why he would’ve come alone. The man’s cocky, but he’s not stupid.”

  “I know one person who knew he was coming here.”

  Cillian froze and stared at her. “What? Who?”

  “I don’t know her name. After I— After I left, I was…hungry, so I went to get some food—”

  Cybel’s eyes flashed. “You went out to eat? While Cillian was here feeling—”

  “Cybel.” His voice was laced with warning.

  “Well, you were upset,” she muttered darkly.

  “Cybel, I’m sorry. But you’re not human, so you don’t get to judge me. You’ve never been hungry, and I was starving. And still, I’m sorry.” She held up her hands in surrender. “It was a woman from the ball. I met her at the buffet table—”

  “Of course you did.”

  “Cybel, stop!” Cillian raised his hand in admonishment.

  But Beauty detected a hint of amusement in his voice. She ignored the grumbling bot. “She spoke to me then Gideon came up to ask me to dance.” She tried not to glance over at his body, though she couldn’t feel bad about his death.

  Cillian frowned. “Is she an older woman, gray hair?”

  “Yes. She said she knew you. That she’d…helped heal your injuries.”

  “Morgan Dane. I’ll be damned. But what the hell would she be doing all the way out here? And in public?”

  “She seemed pretty comfortable with it.” Beauty dug her hand into her pocket. She’d nearly forgotten about the chip. “She was looking for you. To warn you.” She held it out to him. “And also to give you this.”

  He took it from her and examined it. “And she didn’t tell you what it was?”

  “No. Just that you would know what to do with it.”

  “Interesting. Well, come on, then. Let’s go see what it holds.” He took off toward the control room.

  “Shouldn’t we, uh…do something? With him?”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Cybel bustled over to the body, giving Beauty a reproachful berth as she did.

  “But he’s four times bigger than you!”

  “She’ll manage.” Cillian grinned at his assistant and she beamed back. “Thanks, Cybel.”

  In the control room, Cillian gestured for Beauty to sit. As she made herself comfortable, he fiddled with the equipment,
hooking up some devices and unplugging others.

  “So is that why you came back? Because you thought I was in danger? Not because you were sorry for leaving in the first place?” He didn’t look at her, but his hands had stilled.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Does it matter?” Was he really going to be picky over that?

  He laughed. “No. I’ll take what I can get. Besides, I kind of like that.” He pushed the chip into a slot and flicked on the monitor. “Okay, let’s see what’s on this thing.” He shook his head. “Morgan Dane. Who would’ve thought?”

  Image after image filled the screen, too fast for Beauty’s eyes to follow. Even the final image, which looked like some kind of blueprint, was beyond her understanding. “I hope you know what all this is, Cillian, because I have no idea.”

  The cyborg had gone very still.

  “Cillian?”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “What? What is it?” She rose from her chair to stand beside him, but leaning over and squinting at the image didn’t make it any clearer.

  “It’s how we’re going to save The Vault.”

  17

  “Save The Vault? How exactly?” Beauty frowned at the screen.

  “Yes. Look.” He flicked through image after image. “Can’t you see what they are?”

  “Blueprints. But for what?”

  “For everything. Everything we need, anyway.” He rotated through them again, pointing at them and explaining them in turn. “Blueprints to Wakelight, to Grace Alpha, logs of their activities…weapons caches, Grace Alpha’s army.”

  I could kiss you, Morgan.

  She kept saving his life, though this was the first time he was actually grateful. Everything they needed to stop Grace Alpha from exterminating The Vault was right there. He could practically see her mind at work, the plan she’d hatched unmistakable.

  “Can we trust her? I mean, she seemed trustworthy enough, but—”

  It was a good question. “Honestly? I don’t know for sure. I think we can. She’s taken a mortal risk giving this to us.” Unless it was a trap. “This is stuff no one should know about.” He straightened and looked down at Beauty. “But I don’t think we can worry about that now. We know for sure what’s going to happen if we don’t do something. This might be risky as hell, but it’s our only option. Either we die doing this or die when The Vault collapses.”