"Wow."
Talon grins. "Wow, indeed. I can access every camera in the manor from here, and most of the public cameras at intersections or outside businesses. Let's see what's going on around here first, and then we can check out what’s going on around Mortals Landing."
“Sounds fine to me.”
We stand in front of the monitors, waiting, but as the views come into auto-focus, I freeze. Glenn actually gasps out loud.
"What is going on out there?" Ida asks, but the answer is playing itself out before our eyes.
Outside, all over the manor, things are pure chaos. Some of the smaller buildings are ablaze. The pool house pours smoke from every window, though I don’t see flames yet. People swarm everywhere, armed with everything from swords to shotguns. In several grid squares, we watch as turrets pop up, only to be demolished. Whether by pryokinetics exploding their ammo or telekinetics bending their Gatling-gun barrels mid-firing, none last more than a moment once they appear.
One grid panel switches views from a doorway, with its door swinging by the only remaining hinge, to a top-down view of the entire manor property. Tiny red figures seem to crawl over the manor grounds like ants. It must be a satellite picture.
"Is that a live feed?" I can't tear my eyes off it.
"Yes," he replies tersely. "Maybe a five-second lag, at most. I'm putting other areas of the city up at random on the left two monitors."
Nearly every camera shows only empty streets. The few that don't show empty streets reveal desperate battles raging, with bullets and magic alike spraying in every direction. In each of those, it's clear that one side is greatly outnumbered.
"Damn," Glenn says slowly, drawing the word out. "It looks like the loyal Wraiths are putting up one hell of a fight, but..."
"But it's useless," Ida says, almost shouting. Her face is turning red before my eyes. "They're too outnumbered. This isn't our resistance fight, it's their mop-up operation."
Before I know what I'm doing, I spin on her. "No, don't you dare say that. My parents are out there. Roma parents. If the Shades find the jail..."
I can't bear to finish the thought.
The left two monitors flick over to four new images every few seconds, but each new picture shows the same thing—swarms of people, none of them fighting but all of them surging in one direction.
"No," Ida says, her voice cracking, and where I heard anger before, I only hear fear.
I put my hand on her shoulder. "What do you mean? What are we looking at?” I shoot a glare at Talon and add, “And what does it have to do with my parents, dammit?"
Glenn’s replies for her. "Those locations are the disk’s exits. All the portals in and out."
He can't be saying what I think he's saying. That's impossible. That's not fair. My parents are fine, they have to be. We'll find a way to get them out, and everything will be okay.
Talon says, "They're locking Mortals Landing down." His voice is tight and monotone. "We can't get your parents out, Mirela. We'll come back for them, though, I swear it."
I spin to face him head-on. "Well, that's too damn bad. I don't care about getting out. We can hide down here. But we're getting my parents now, do you hear me? You brought them here. You promised they'd be safe. You gave me your word." By the end, I'm half-shouting at him. "Forget this. I’m done following you, dammit.”
“What? Mirela—“
“No. I'm getting them, and you can come if you want or you can run away. Right now, I don’t care which."
As I turn toward the hatch, though, a buzzing sound appears in the back of my mind, growing in volume and quickly becoming painful. I grab my head, thinking it’s just me, but the others are doing the same.
The buzzing in my brain vanishes, then, and is replaced by a voice echoing around inside my skull—Dawson’s.
Attention Wraiths and all persons currently present in Mortals Landing. This is Ian Dawson. Our queen, Birka, has voluntarily abdicated as ruler and has named me her successor. Effective immediately, all hostilities between Wraiths and Shades will cease. I have done what Birka could not—negotiate a peace treaty with the Shades that will reunite both our people under one ruler... Me.
Every exit off Mortals Landing has been blocked to prevent the escape of the few war criminals opposed to peace. You can hear them fighting still, though loyal Wraiths and our new Shade allies are neutralizing them quickly, so do not be afraid. No one who embraces this peace has anything to fear.
Once the pockets of terrorists have been eliminated, further instructions will be broadcast along with locations of Registration Centers to notarize your official support for your legitimate government. Forty-eight hours after that, all Wraiths and Shades who have not declared their support for peace will be detained for questioning and re-education.
No matter your crimes or your roll in the treason being crushed as I speak, if you surrender for re-education, not even the traitor-prince Talon is beyond pardon. We are entering a kinder, more merciful era, after all.
That is all. Peace be with every loyal Wraith and Shade.
When the broadcast cuts off abruptly, the pain vanishes with it, leaving us all standing around staring at each other. After the silence grows awkward, Meredith coughs into her hand and then says, "So uh, did any of you know about that broadcast capability? I did not. I'm surprised Birka didn't use it as soon as she figured out what was going on."
Talon shakes his head, shrugging. "I didn't know, but my mom had to have. Since she never told even me, I wonder how Dawson found out about it."
A frowning Glenn replies, "The fact that she didn't use it means they either captured her too fast, or..."
"Or what?" Talon snaps, glaring.
"Never mind." Glenn looks down at his feet.
I'm pretty sure Talon knows where Glenn was going with that, but it needs to be said. Talon needs to hear it, out loud. "Or, they didn't give her the chance to abdicate." I put my hand on Talon's arm, gently.
He glares at me for a moment, but then the fire in his eyes dies out. "We don't know what happened, but it doesn't matter. She'd want me to get out, stay alive, and live to fight back another day. I'm sorry, but we can't go after your parents. Not right now. It'd be suicide, and I don't think your parents want that for you."
It's my turn to glare at him. But watching the monitors flick from camera to camera around the disk, I see fewer and fewer that display any fighting. The Wraiths who had fought back, disorganized and leaderless, are losing. They've already lost, even if some battles aren't yet over, because Dawson controls the exits. No one can leave or come in without his permission.
I thought we'd fought our way free back in the lab, but now I realize the truth. We're far from being free, we're just in a much bigger cage—and the longer he's in control, the smaller that cage is going to get.
I wish someone had killed him when we had the chance.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I stare at the camera screens in disbelief. The monitors show dozens of people with their hands locked behind their heads being marched in single-file lines out of whatever defenses the loyal Wraiths had retreated to.
"Dammit.” Talon smashes his fist into his open hand. “Okay, let's figure out what's next. Our primary goal is to get out of Mortals Landing alive. We may be able to take advantage of the chaos to get out. Any ideas? Let's hear them."
Meredith shakes her head, eyes going wide. "Are you kidding? Our best bet is to wait it out in the tunnel. No one knows it's there. We'll be safe until things calm down. Then, when they relax their guard and reopen travel from the disk, we can sneak out."
They're both fooling themselves. There's no way out. Meredith really thinks they don't have magic that can find us? Talon can't possibly believe they'll actually let us walk free. Until they find us, they'll guard every portal.
But then, I have an idea. Maybe I can buy time for the others to take advantage of and escape. But as for me, I've had too much time already. Time to think about the si
tuation. About my family. About what happens to them if I escape.
And near the top of that list, I’ve had too much time to think about how I could ever choose between Luka and Talon. All that thinking only led to one conclusion—I can't.
Buying them time seems the best option available. I’m too overwhelmed and sad to really care what happens to me. Embrace what is.
As the others bicker, I edge toward the shed door until I'm out of reach, and then I run for it. I know this is stupid, but I also know fighting it is even more foolish.
They don't start shouting for me to stop until they hear the loud creak as I open the door. I bolt outside before they catch up, and I run. I head toward a place that, on the cameras, looked like the manor attackers’ field HQ. It’s only about two-hundred yards away. I can make it—
A flash of light from nowhere appears, streaking toward me too fast to dodge or even to see clearly. It hits me just as my mind is registering that it's there. Every muscle in my body goes limp at once, and I hit the ground like a rag doll, skidding to a halt on my face. Ouch. Whatever that was, it sure didn't deaden my pain receptors.
Somewhere behind me, Talon screams my name. His voice is growing louder fast as he approaches. But then, there’s another bolt, and a thump. I try to look, but can’t turn my head to see where Talon went down.
Testing my muscles, I note that they're starting to respond, but only slowly. Too slowly. Right now, I can blink and swallow at will. That’s not much use, but it tells me that I’ll recover. That’s a relief.
Ahead of me, the air shimmers. I narrow my eyes, forgetting about recovery for the moment and trying to see it more clearly. Abruptly, the shimmering vanishes and, in its place, I see a broad arc of troops who have suddenly become visible. I didn't know invisibility was one of the magic Gifts.
There must be twenty soldiers, but one of them matters more than all the rest—Dawson. He holds his hand up for them to hold their fire and calls out, "If they move, incapacitate them."
He walks up to me and stops, looking down. “You are a tough young lady to find, Mirela,” he says with a faint smile. His tone sounds genuinely friendly.
How can such a nice guy be the biggest traitor? I can't move much, but my eyes are fine and my tongue and mouth feel okay now.
I'm not sure what to say, so I blurt the first thing that comes to mind. "Howdy. I didn't see you standing there, sorry."
Dawson looks bemused. "That was rather the point. May I ask why you were running toward my command center rather than trying to escape the manor grounds?"
"Simple. I planned on surrendering. You need me, and I didn't expect those idiots to chase after me. But if I'd told them what I was going to do, they'd have tried to stop me."
He gives me a faint nod. "Yes, they seem to think highly of you if they're willing to risk exposing themselves. Regardless, I accept your surrender."
He turns to call over his shoulder, "Secure the prisoner and take her to HQ. Get the rest of them to the re-education center, and for goodness’ sake, find out how they got onto the manor grounds to hide in that old shed."
One of the men salutes him and starts barking orders at the others. I can't tell if they're Shades or Wraiths, but I suppose that distinction doesn't really matter anymore. I wish I could see Talon and the others, though, to apologize for getting them sent to whatever miserable prison they're using as a re-education center.
Dawson is still facing the troops over his shoulder when I hear a shuffle behind me. I try to turn my head, but still can't. Whoever it is, they're going to get zapped at any moment. I want to cry out for them to stay still, but that would only draw attention to them. So, with my heart racing, I wait for the inevitable spray of magic—or bullets.
Instead, though, the next thing I hear is Talon’s voice. "Dawson, listen. Ela couldn't make the machine work because she's got the wrong flavor of power."
Dawson stops mid-step, then turns back around. He purses his lips, looking over me at Talon. After a couple seconds, he says, "I can eventually recalibrate the machine to work with hers. It'll be rough on her, getting drained so many times until I figure that out. It gets worse each time, you see. But, we must all do our part for science and the bright future of this world, mustn’t we? I am sorry, but she won't be joining you for re-education."
My heart skips a beat. "No, Talon, shut up," I cry.
He starts to turn away again, but Talon isn't done yet. "The machine worked, Dawson. Look at the man next to me. I think you'll recognize him."
Seconds tick by before Dawson turns around again. His face is set in stone. "You'd better not be wasting my time. Former prince or not, I won't hesitate to send you somewhere besides the re-education camp if you are lying to me."
He walks out of my field of view. I'm desperate to see what's going on, but I can’t turn my head. Closing my eyes to help concentrate, I struggle with all my will to simply turn my head. I’m a bit surprised to realize that turning my head while lying down involves a lot of other muscles besides my neck. Shoulders, back, arms...
I almost yip for joy when I feel the muscles working. Not well yet, but my control over my own body seems a lot better than it was.
The pain makes me break into a sweat, but I finally manage to get my head turned. I also grind my face into the ground in the process, and feel some dirt in my eyelashes, dangerously close to my poor, unprotected eyeballs.
Only a dozen feet away, Talon is paralyzed and lying on the ground, but I’m relieved to see Glenn holding him up in a sitting position. Ida and Meredith stand a few feet beyond them, holding their hands up in surrender. Smart girls.
And Luka is on his side, motionless, right beside Talon, with Dawson examining his face. Dawson says, "I'm not sure what you hoped to gain by telling me this, Talon. The fact that you got it to work…”
"What are you thinking, you idiot?” I interject. “Dawson, I'll go with you. I'll give you my full cooperation, just don't hurt them. Please."
“Stop.” Dawson chops his hand through the air, and for one moment, I see him lose his bearing. His cheeks grow a shade darker. "Do not ever think for one moment that I intend to harm prisoners who cooperate. Re-education camps are not places of torture, but of education. It's right there in the name. Whatever you may think of me and what I’ve done to save us all from our endless, stupid war, I meant what I said. I won’t willingly kill your friends."
Talon ignores me. "Dawson, pay attention. Mirela had nothing to do with Luka's resurrection. I did this, and it's me you want."
I watch in horror. Dammit, there's nothing I can do about it now. I wanted to lose myself, and now I’m just going to lose Talon. I feel my cheeks grow damp. I tell myself it’s just dew on the ground, not tears. I don’t believe me.
Dawson frowns. "Bah. You have no powers. They were stolen long ago. While that’s a tragedy, and you've done a remarkable job overcoming it, but you cannot be the one who did this."
I give it one last shot. "Talon, dammit, stop. Dawson, it was me. He’s trying to save me."
Talon sneers at Dawson. "You know so little. I stole someone's power, just as they stole mine. But where they only got a temporary boost from stealing mine, I got my magic back. And do you know what my Gift was? What it is?"
"No, but I'm interested. Assuming you can prove this, of course." Dawson doesn’t even spare a look in my direction.
Talon says, "Oh, I can. My power is to connect with the dead.”
“Oh really? How is that better than Ela’s own Gift?”
”Where her power is only related to death indirectly, I channel it. And because of that, I resurrected your test subject where Ela couldn't. But I had to want it. It took both the right willpower and the right Gift.”
“Oh, so Mirela had one, but not the other." Dawson waved his hand around, indicating the rest of us. "Why did you all come right to me? I knew you were in that shed as soon as you arrived, however you got there. I had an alert rune cast on it."
Glenn let
out a low whistle. "Impressive. All that runic power just for one old shed?"
Dawson smiled wanly. "We put one on every unused building on the property to catch Birka if she ran. She didn't, though.”
Talon twitches on the ground, trying to get up. “What did you do to my mother? If you killed her—”
“Your mother is alive, of course. She is entirely too pragmatic to ‘go out in a pointless blaze of glory,’ as they say. But why are you revealing how you succeeded? I would have thought the spoiled, rich son of the queen would keep his mouth shut and let Miss Mirela face me alone."
I watch the conversation in silent horror. I'd tried, but it was far too late to stop Talon.
He replied, "Simple. I offer myself up to you with full cooperation, under one non-negotiable condition.”
“Would you care to elaborate?”
“I’ll help, but only if you let all my other companions go free.”
Dawson scratches his cheek, considering it. Then, his expression changes and he says, “No, I can’t have this rabble-rousing group running amok in my city.”
Talon’s eyes narrow when Dawson calls it ”his” city, but he continues, “Not here. Set them free among the mortals where they can’t get in your way. They’ll be no threat to you there. And, give them enough of the mortals’ money to live comfortably in exile."
Dawson pauses. "You're serious? Very well. It’s a deal. I’ll have credit cards waiting for them at my offices in the mortals’ world.”
He looks over his shoulder and shouts, “Guards, gather his companions and dump them off on the other side of a transport gate unharmed, but don't let them back in. As for the prince, take him to the backup lab. Oh, and alert Luna that we have him."
Luna? No... She can't be alive. "Dawson," I cry out, but then I cough—I'm still far too weak to shout like that. I lower my voice a bit and try again. “Luna died. She was in the lab she blew up when it collapsed."
He frowns, shaking his head. "No, dear. She escaped. You think she didn't have a backup plan for explosives she herself ordered? Don't worry for Talon, though. He's far too important for me to let any harm come to him. Besides, she swore loyalty to me, just as the prince will. That'll make the power transition so much smoother. Good luck, Mirela."
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