by Ann Denton
He stared at Mala. I’m here to protect her. I’m her only protection. He ignored the snarky voice in his head that challenged, Protect or trade her? Instead he embraced anger. Better to let her fear him, fear putting her toe out of line. Better that, than to see her head—he couldn’t even let himself picture it.
“You don’t get to pull shit like this, Mala. You don’t get to change the rules. They had a drawing of me. So what?”
Mala’s eyes caught fire. “So they had a picture of Neid, and they shot her on sight!”
He felt like he’d been punched. He stumbled backward. Two drawings. This wasn’t an accident. It’s not insurance. Not a mistake … How would she know about Neid?
Lowe’s gut rumbled, warning him. Something was going on. Something he needed to figure out. But first, he had to deal with Mala. He had to get her to listen. Anger wasn’t working.
Lowe closed his eyes and took a deep breath, searching for calm. “I understand you think what you did was for the best. But you have to run things like that by me. I’m point on this mission. You can’t just send me off. Even if you think you’re protecting me.”
Mala’s eyes—Fell’s eyes—watered. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want … I couldn’t stand to see you get hurt.”
The look in her eyes was so despondent, so lost. Lowe pressed his lips together and stepped forward. He cupped her cheek in his hand and offered a sad little smile.
“It’s really distracting when you look like my commanding Ancient,” he said.
Mala smiled too. “Yeah, well, sorry. You’re the one who’s mad at her, apparently.”
Lowe nodded. “For agreeing,” he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb. The skin was Fell’s, but through it he saw Mala. Warm and beautiful Mala, just trying to save the world. “When we are clearly not prepared enough.” Clearly being sabotaged.
Mala touched his hand, leaning her face into his palm. “I’m sorry, Lowe.”
Lowe gave a slow, resigned sigh. “I know.” The he felt himself grinning. “Just don’t do it again.”
“Aye-aye.”
Lowe stepped back and groaned. “Now I need to go find a man to kiss you.”
“Wish it could be you,” Mala smiled apologetically.
Lowe smiled back at her as he left, lingering at the door. He could see Mala’s expression under Fell’s features, the furrowed brow and the scrunched-up nose, the eyes that saw the good in everything. That still saw the good in him, even after he’d pushed her away on the boat ride to Keptiker’s.
“Believe me, so do I.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
He found Ein down the hall, standing idly in a corner, staring out a window. Ein didn’t notice him until Lowe pushed him.
Ein was sweating. “What?” His mouth took on an irritated twist, but his eyes were flat, lifeless.
Lowe tilted his head. Ein’s skin was a pale grey with a sheen of sweat. Muck it all. He’s in shock. Lowe carefully spit out the words, in case any wandering ears were around. “Keptiker needs you.”
Lowe turned and Ein followed, dragging himself slowly behind.
“What happened?” Ein whispered, when they reached the door. As if he were afraid of what he’d see on the other side.
“He’s fine. Just needs the right skin.” Lowe gave him a pointed look.
Ein nodded twice, three times. He nodded for a full minute, muttering to himself.
“Ein?”
“We need to get this over with. The longer we wait the more likely it is she’ll be caught. She’ll slip up and we’ll all be killed and—”
“Woah, Ein.” Lowe grabbed his arm. “Breathe, okay? It’s going to be okay.”
Ein nodded slowly, breathing deeply. “I … sorry.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter.
“Don’t be,” said Lowe. “We’re all here. We’ll get through this,” he said. “Together.”
“Together …” Ein’s eyes glazed. “Neid …”
“I know.”
“I … I was there,” Ein said shakily. “I was … standing by her and I didn’t … I couldn’t … my only sister.”
“There was nothing you could do to save her.” And there was nothing he could say to fix it.
Ein nodded, swiping his eyes. “She knew the risks.”
Lowe’s stomach turned over on itself. The hell she did. Neid had been young and green and promising … and no one ever really understood. Not until they were in the field.
He sighed and drew a hand over his face. Ein was capable, intelligent, and on any other day Lowe might have told him everything there was to know about Stelle and Tier and the plot to assassinate Troe, the one that was now in question.
But Ein couldn’t take it, not now. Not after today.
Lowe motioned to the door. “You should go in. Before someone comes to see Keptiker.”
Ein nodded, cleared his throat, and stepped inside. He closed the door behind him with a soft ka-thunk.
Lowe bit the inside of his cheek, hard. There was a pressure growing in his chest, a tight burning ball of anxiety with nowhere to go.
Neid’s gone, Lowe thought. Ein’s scared. Mala … Mala is brave and stupid, and if I tell her anything, she’ll do something crazy. And for all I know, Stelle’s been playing me this whole time.
Lowe was in the heart of the Erlender stronghold with a trade and an assassination to balance ... and he was completely alone. No breakdowns allowed. So Stelle might be playing me, he thought. If she is, it means all the information she’s given me is worthless.
He needed a different game plan, one completely independent of Stelle. And for that, he needed information, intel she hadn’t touched.
Lowe knocked on the door, hoping the melt was over. It was not something he wanted to see if he had to maintain emotional lockdown. He braced himself as he pushed it open.
Mala—Keptiker in all his glory, iron muscles and square jaw and the uncaring eyes of a snake—sat on the cot next to Ein.
“Hey you,” Mala’s soft tone came out as a gravelly purr in Keptiker’s voice.
“Hey. I need you to run some reconnaissance on Troe before we do the tax presentation.”
Keptiker’s jaw visibly tightened. Mala nodded once. “What do you need to know?”
“His plans. We’re in the dark.”
“Not completely. Radiation’s creeping in,” Ein piped up. “We know that. You could ask him about the border.”
“Radiation?” Mala’s jaw dropped.
“Don’t panic. We don’t know how much.” Lowe’s eyes shot daggers at Ein. “I just want you to listen. That’s all. Listen in. See what he talks about. What he’s working on.”
“But if he talks about radiation, zone in on that,” Ein interjected.
“We don’t know what he knows about it, if anything.” Lowe tried to tamp down his irritation. “And he won’t call it radiation, Troe would call it the curse. If he knows, he’ll talk about it like it’s a bad omen or divine punishment.”
“Alright,” Mala said. “Lowe, if the border is moving in …” She trailed off, as though unsure how to phrase her question.
“We’ll figure it out. Troe will be in his office most of the day. There’s only one guard posted. We’ll subdue the guy before shift change. You can melt into the new guard and do some eavesdropping.”
“You don’t want me to go as Keptiker?” Mala tilted her head and deliberately flicked her wrist.
Lowe tried not to shake his head too forcefully
“Not funny,” Ein muttered.
“Be a fly on the wall,” Lowe stressed. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and Troe will leave and you can look around. But otherwise, just listen.”
Mala nodded. “Okay. I can do this. I can do this.” She stood, the cot creaking as her weight left it. She was shaking something awful.
“Hey,” said Lowe, catching Mala’s trailing hand. “You can do this.”
Mala sighed. “Thanks,” she rasped. She took a deep breath and her eyes turned
stony. Her fists clenched at her sides, knuckles popping loudly. “Let’s go.”
Fifteen minutes later, Kopf the security guard was unconscious in a closet, and Mala was wearing his face, meandering toward Troe’s office and trying not to look suspicious. Or feminine, though that was difficult.
Lowe left her in the hall. Ein was supposedly guarding the Erlender they’d taken out (though in reality, he’d turned his face back to the window and stared out at the sky). Lowe wasn’t sure Ein would notice if the guard jumped him. But he didn’t have time to babysit.
He had to find those kids. Find Beza. He had to know what Troe was doing with them. Had to figure out a way to get them all out, too. Because Ein’s exit plans had been for four, not forty. And if the trade deal was not going to happen … If Stelle was selling them out one by one … Lowe picked up his pace.
Why would she draw Neid? How would she even know about her? Why would she give the picture to Troe and his guards? Unless her cover was under threat? Maybe he didn’t believe her.
Lowe wasn’t sure what to think. But he knew he wasn’t fool enough to trust. Not anymore. He was going to get eyes on those kids himself. He was going to get independent information from Mala. And he was going to pull this mission off.
As he rounded a corner, a door he’d remembered from Ein’s maps came into sight. He winked at a guard strolling the opposite direction and mouthed, “hide and seek” before he entered a maintenance closet. He searched the walls behind the shelves until he found what he was looking for. Jackpot.
Lowe flipped over a bucket and climbed on top, his eyes focused on a dusty grey vent overhead. He pulled out a knife to work at the screws, hoping the guard wouldn’t hear him. He wanted to get down to the boiler room, where prisoners were kept. And he didn’t want to be seen.
Lowe dropped out of the ceiling into the torchlit boiler room. The mechanical beasts in the room were long dead. Now guards chained sniffling victims to the bony pipes. Lowe heard sobs coming from inside the vats. Rumor was, only the worst went inside. But no one ever came out.
The prisoners eyed him as he moved forward. But not one called for a guard. The advantage of melting into a kid.
An old man chained to a low pipe nearby gave a deliberate cough and jerked his head.
There were footsteps outside the boiler room door, the soft padding of a guard idly on the way to make his rounds. Keys sounded in the lock. Then a curse and the cling of keys hitting the floor.
Lowe looked at the prisoner. He had a black fish tattoo running up his arm.
Lowe raised an eyebrow. “Bara’s?” he whispered.
The man stared steadily at him. “Fifteen years ago. Been here since.”
Senebal defiance radiated from him. Lowe slid his collar to the side and revealed his brand to the prisoner. The man’s eyes widened. “Kreis?” he whispered.
Lowe nodded. “Can you pick your own lock?”
The man dipped his head in affirmation.
Lowe fished a pick out of his boot and handed it to the man, along with his knife.
Then Lowe moved toward the boiler room door. He crouched like a monkey behind the hinges. He slid a hand inside his shirt and tugged at a packet wrapped in foil.
The guard pushed open the door, stepped through, yawned.
Lowe seized the moment. He grabbed the packet and leapt onto the man. He climbed him like a tree, until his legs wrapped around the guard’s neck. The guard thrashed, his hand going to a dagger at his hip. Lowe melted into an adult. His weight threw the guard off before the man could grab his dagger. Lowe wrestled him to the ground. The guard kneed him in the stomach. Breath whooshed out.
The guard reached for his dagger again but suddenly lurched. The freed Senebal stood behind the guard, foot extended. Lowe didn’t have time to thank the prisoner. The guard growled and came after him. Lowe let the guard’s momentum knock him to the ground. He kicked his leg out and hit the Erlender in the chest, sending the other man sailing. The guard smacked down onto the concrete floor face first.
Lowe was on him in an instant. He flipped the Blue Nose, straddled him, and shoved the foil packet into his mouth. Water activated the chemical compound. Feuer melted on the man’s tongue. It bubbled and burned, eating the guard from inside out.
The man gurgled. His eyes turned desperate.
Lowe snapped the guard’s neck. He stared down at the dead body. The Blue Nose’s arms were a touch longer than Lowe’s, his middle a bit wider, but his uniform would do.
Lowe removed the shredded kid-size sweatpants he’d had on. He replaced them with the guard’s black jumpsuit. It sagged around his belly, but when he stuffed the sweatpants inside, no one could tell without staring.
Lowe shoved the body behind an empty oversized water tank. Prisoners craned their necks to watch him. But they were silent. Didn’t beg to be freed. Didn’t try to earn another guard’s favor by ratting him out. They seemed broken.
Lowe forced himself to ignore them. Forced his steps to be confident, calm. He glanced around for the prisoner that he’d freed, but the old man had disappeared. Likely headed back to a home that didn’t exist. Lowe turned his eyes back to the pipes and continued around a corner. He scanned the faces of the prisoners he passed. All adults.
But then a chain rattled on the far side of the room. Shushing and a twittering, high-pitched argument followed. Kids. Trying to be quiet. Failing. Lowe moved toward the noise.
“Stop that! You’re gonna call him over here and he’ll take you!”
“I can’t! I’m itchy!”
“Well, stop being itchy!”
“Quiet! I think I hear him!”
“But I can’t—”
“You have to, he’s …”
Lowe found them, a group of poorly lit silhouettes. Four kids chained to a tiny copper pipe. Another row of prisoners were chained to a larger pipe running lower on the same wall. The adults had all claimed seats on the floor. So the kids were forced to stand. Itchy spotted Lowe; he stopped scratching and his chains hushed.
“W-we’re sorry, sir,” a new voice cracked the silent darkness. The child’s voice was raspy from disuse. He cleared his throat. And a familiar tone hit Lowe’s ears. “Won’t happen again. Promise.”
“Beza,” Lowe knelt to see their faces, pushing aside the grown prisoners. He didn’t receive any resistance. He grabbed a child’s arm and pulled him closer. He couldn’t trust his ears alone. “Beza, it’s Lowe.”
The blonde boy squinted at him, untrusting. That’s when Lowe remembered what he looked like. No eyebrows. No hair.
“Are you trouble or what?” Lowe whispered, cracking a smile and blinking back tears.
“Lowe!” Beza breathed. Like he couldn’t believe it. “You’re here.”
Lowe hugged Beza so tight that his back popped. “Mucking hell, Beza, I’ve been so worried.”
“Me too,” said Beza.
Lowe set him down and mussed his hair, grinning like an idiot. For a moment, the tension of the mission abandoned him, replaced by hope.
Lowe smiled at the other kids, but they shrank back. They didn’t know him. Lowe’s eyes scanned the little group. Four kids was nowhere near the number kidnapped from the cliff. “Where are the others?”
“I don’t know. They’ve been taking kids down there.” He pointed to a set of metal doors at the end of the room. Lowe’s brow furrowed. The Senebal maps didn’t show anything that direction. No rooms. No exits. This door had to be new.
“Why’d they leave you behind?”
“Dunno. They take one at a time, sometimes two.” Beza swallowed. His eyes were wide with fear. He whispered, “Lowe, nobody’s come back.”
Lowe set his jaw and squeezed Beza’s arm, trying to smile for the kids’ sake. “When did they come last?”
“Um … five minutes ago, maybe? They took Anek. Are you gonna go after her?”
Lowe stared at the metal doors, his frown deepening. King Troe should have gotten official word of the trade. Stahl
had said he’d have a town crier sent. Damnit. I knew Troe wouldn’t go through with it. What is he doing to these kids? “Yeah. I’m going after her.”
“Good,” said Beza, rather matter-of-factly.
Lowe pulled Beza into a tight hug. “I’ll be back for you,” he said, his voice steely.
Lowe strode off with four kids staring after him.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Lowe pushed open the doors. A pile of rubble formed an archway over a tunnel leading underground. Three pillared candles burned at the entrance, casting shadows over the dirt walls.
Lowe grabbed a candle, and he started down the tunnel. The candle limited his speed.
Through the darkness, he heard shuffling feet.
Muck. He glanced down at the uniform he’d acquired. Hope this guy had the clearance to be down here. There wasn’t anywhere to hide.
Suddenly, a bulky shape loomed at the edge of the candlelight. A fist swung toward Lowe, bringing a man’s face into range as Lowe dropped to the ground.
“Verrukter?”
The shadow froze. “Wha—Lowe?”
Lowe stood, his candle sputtering as he faced his friend.
“You look … pretty,” Verrukter’s joke was thin, his eyes hollow.
“We’ve had a rough time of it,” Lowe responded. He hesitated, not sure what to say. “Did you … come in through the front gates?”
Verrukter’s eyes turned glassy for a second, but then he inhaled and shook it off. “Yeah. I saw.”
“I’m sorr—”
“Don’t.”
“Okay,” Lowe nodded respectfully. If Verrukter didn’t want to talk about Neid, he wasn’t going to push it. “What are you doing here?”
Verrukter stared at him across the flame. “They sent me after the traitor. Alba. She’s here.”
“Alba?” Lowe said incredulously. “You’re sure?”
Verrukter shrugged. “Saw her and a contact sneak through here an hour ago.”
Lowe nodded, processing. Then he shared info of his own. “The kidnapped kids are here.”