I use his falter to rush in, sinking another of my knives into his chest. Warm blood trickles over my hands as he stares at me.
When I rip my blade free, I’m unable to look at him, but push him back into the next rebel trying to enter the cave. I wish I could get rid of the blood on my hands as easily.
“I’m stuck,” Cathwell says.
“What?” When I look back, Cathwell is standing there with her spear extended, but not with enough space to swing or effectively use it. The plan I used to restrict the rebels is restricting her as well. At least her presence on my grid is starting to calm down. Whatever was bothering her before, she appears to have put it out of mind for the time being. “It’s okay. Stay behind me. I’ll take care of this.”
I’m beginning to think this will work out somehow. As the rebels drag their friend outside, I can tell they’re trying to formulate a plan.
Then five new presences appear on my grid. Shortly after them, coming from the opposite direction, two more. They’re all heading toward us.
My stomach sinks. Reinforcements? We can’t handle that many, especially if one of them has a gift that could either kill us instantly or smoke us out.
“What do we do?” Cathwell asks. I think she knows about the newcomers as well.
I take a deep breath. It’ll be okay. Everything will work out—I just have to think.
But I can’t. Between the rebels outside and the ones headed for us, my panic keeps scattering my thoughts like so many startled birds.
“We can’t run,” Cathwell says. As if she’s prompting me.
Her calm sinks into me. I nod. “We’ll hold our position here.”
“If a strong Nyte comes?”
“There’s nothing we can do about that. We’ll work it out if it happens and fight as best we can.”
“Okay.”
She compresses her spear and tucks it into her belt’s sheath before coming to stand beside me. She holds out her hand.
I give her a throwing knife, my fingers lingering over hers. “You know, from our training sessions, you appear to be quite good at hand-to-hand combat.”
She nearly smiles. “Just a bit.”
The rebels outside aren’t doing anything. They must be aware their comrades are coming, and it’s not as if we’re going anywhere. Devin paces irritably back and forth just outside the entrance, but every time he takes a step forward as though he’s about to come in after us, one of the others says something and he goes back to pacing.
“So tell me, Cathwell, since we’ve got a little time,” I say. “What’s your gift?”
“Secret.”
“And do you know that rebel? Devin?”
“No. I’ve never seen him before.”
No itch behind my eyes. She isn’t lying. But then why did she feel betrayed when she saw him?
“Then do you know why the rebels want to capture you?”
Her sphere’s hue on my grid pales, which is odd, because that’s typically what happens when someone grows calmer. “Prisoners of war are often useful for extracting information.”
“That’s not an answer.”
She looks down and away. “Sorry, Major.”
The group of five presences on my grid have arrived. From our short distance inside the cave, I can see them regroup with their comrades as they watch us, discussing.
It’s hard to keep a steady grip on my knives through my sweating palms. I readjust them. Despite staring the end right in the face, some part of me is still unable to register that I’m going to die here like this. Some part of me thinks there’s a way to make it through. I’m going to fight. And I’m going to win.
Two of the new rebels step forward. Cathwell and I stand side by side, blades at the ready.
Before they can so much as take a step inside, they’re both propelled back through the air by an invisible force. Seconds later, fire engulfs them. Two lights disappear from my grid.
I can’t comprehend what happened until Mendel and Johann come running into view, the former’s hand now raised in the direction of the remaining rebels.
The other two presences coming toward us. They were our teammates.
“Why are you so surprised?” Cathwell asks after a quick glance at my face. “You’re the one who hit the red alert, aren’t you?”
Outside, Mendel and Johann sweep through the rebels, taking full advantage of their unexpected appearance to wreak havoc.
“Why am I not surprised it’s you, Erik?” Devin snarls.
Mendel’s head whips around so fast I’m amazed it doesn’t snap, but he doesn’t have time to respond before Devin’s sword comes crashing down on his.
“You always were in the way,” Devin says. “I guess you disappearing could only last so long.”
How does he know Mendel? Earlier, too, he was able to identify Cathwell. Does he have intel on our team? It sounds like he and Mendel have personal history, though. Just what in the gods’ names is going on?
“Come on, Cathwell,” I say. “Let’s go.”
“Right.”
However, before we can leave, one of the rebels not engaged with Johann or Mendel turns to face us. Yet she’s not looking at us, but somewhere above our heads when she raises her hand.
It takes me a second too long to realize what she’s doing.
“Cathwell, run!” I say, but too late. An explosion sounds.
A shudder ripples through the length of the cave, and a heartbeat later, an avalanche of rubble collapses over the entrance.
The noise nearly ruptures my eardrums. I grab the collar of Cathwell’s jacket and jerk her back just in time to avoid getting crushed by the wreckage. We both fall in the process. Smaller rocks clatter down on top of us. All at once, the light is gone.
As loud as the noise of the rocks collapsing was, the total silence that replaces it is just as deafening. I can’t hear what’s going on outside. My eyes take an extended amount of time to adjust, and when they finally do, it’s to see dust floating in the now-still air and Cathwell staring at the newly formed rock wall.
“No,” she says. She slowly rises to her feet. “No no nonono. This isn’t happening.”
“Calm down, Cathwell.” Pebbles clatter down around us, but I think the rest of the cave should hold. “Mendel and Johann will get us out. It’s okay.”
“It is not okay,” Cathwell hisses, surprising me.
I can barely see her, but I hear her as she begins clawing at the rocks, her presence turning a deeper shade of violet by the second, getting closer and closer to black. I grab her wrists and pull her from the rock wall, but at my touch, she flinches back and falls to her knees. I can feel blood on her fingers.
“I need out.” She chokes on a sob. “I can’t, I can’t.”
“Cathwell, what’s wrong?” Her sudden panic is nearly infectious. I remind myself that the others are just outside the cave, and with Mendel’s telekinesis, we won’t be here long. They’ll have to take care of the rebels first, but our teammates are strong. They’ll be all right.
Cathwell starts trembling, which makes everything even worse. I don’t know why, but even though the lieutenant is continually distracted and odd, I never thought of her as weak or unable to handle herself. Now, seeing her like this, I wonder what’s going on.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. I kneel and awkwardly hug her, not sure what I should do to make her feel at ease. At first, she tries to squirm away, but when I don’t let go, her fingers clench into the back of my jacket so hard I can feel them shaking. She buries her face in my shoulder. “It’s okay,” I keep whispering, over and over, because I don’t know what else to do. I brush her hair back from her face. “We’re going to be just fine.”
“I know.” Her voice is muffled through my jacket. She’s still shaking, but her color on my grid has begun to turn a less violent shade.
“Then what’s wrong?”
She hesitates, then says, “I … I can’t handle small spaces.” A pause. “Don’t tell any
one.”
“I don’t think anyone would hold it against you.”
“Even so.”
“But why?”
“It’s a weakness,” she whispers, so low I can barely hear her. “I hate weaknesses. Especially mine.”
“Everyone has weaknesses,” I say. “It’s only natural.”
“Still better that no one knows.”
“You really are self-conscious about it. Did something happen to make you afraid of small spaces?”
She stiffens under my arms and I realize that was likely the worst thing I could have said. She was just beginning to calm down, and then I go and ask her about what was probably a traumatic experience. Stupid stupid stupid.
She doesn’t say anything right away. “I used to have two best friends. Luke and Sara. They were officers, Nytes. After I was picked up off the streets by Austin, and when I eventually, officially became a soldier in the military, they took me under their wing. They were good people. They were everything to me. And then…” Her voice dies away. I don’t know what she’s remembering, but I have a bad feeling about it. I don’t want to press her. If she’s having a hard time as it is, she doesn’t need to keep going.
“It’s okay, Cathwell,” I say. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
She shakes her head. I feel the motion more than I see it, since my chin is resting atop her head, arms still around her shoulders.
“Something strange started happening to Luke,” she says. “He would disappear for days at a time, and when he came back, he always looked scared. He would jump at any noise. He would ramble, or talk nonsense. But he would never tell me or Sara what was wrong.” She takes a deep breath. “The three of us used to meet in this abandoned storage closet. It was away from all the Etioles and it felt like we had a world to ourselves. One day, when I came for our usual meeting, I opened the door and he was just hanging there.”
“Hanging there?” I realize what she means as soon as the words leave my mouth. Oh gods. “I’m … but why did he…”
“He left a note. It didn’t explain like it should’ve, but it read like it was written by the old Luke, before he started acting strange.” Her grip on my back tightens. “When I walked into that room, it shrank. I was in a tiny box. Suffocating. There was nowhere to go. Nothing I could do.”
“I’m sorry,” I breathe. I hold her closer to me, feeling her warmth through my clothes. “I’m so, so sorry.” I wish there was more I could say than some stupid, meaningless words of apology, but what can I say? How do you reply to something like that?
“Soon after that, I went to prison,” she ends lamely.
Again, I don’t know what to say. But I need to say something, because I hate feeling useless like this. I want to help her.
“Are you scared now?” I ask.
“What?”
“Right now. How do you feel?”
A pause. “Better than before.”
There’s no itch behind my eyes to say she’s lying. She’s still shaking, but not as badly as before. “Don’t worry,” I say. “I’m here. And I already said I won’t leave you, remember? I promise.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep. We’re on the verge of a war.”
“Well, with you watching my back, it seems like I’ll probably make it out all right. If your protecting me doesn’t end up killing me first, that is.”
I can feel her smile against my chest. “If you’d take better notice of your surroundings, I wouldn’t have to protect you so much.”
“Ouch. We can’t all have razor-sharp attention like you.”
“You could at least try.”
I laugh. It’s good to hear her act like her normal self, even if she isn’t all the way back yet. Perhaps by talking about Luke, she somehow came to terms with her trauma a little. I wonder if she’s ever confided in anyone about his suicide before. But that reminds me of something else. “The other friend you talked about,” I say. “Sara, was it? What happened to her? I don’t know any Nyte in Central by that name.”
Cathwell stiffens once more under my touch. I realize my mistake too late.
“Sara left,” she says very quietly.
“Is she … alive?”
“Yes.”
She still isn’t lying. But then where did Sara go? Why wouldn’t she have remained by her closest friend’s side, especially when she needed someone so badly? I’ve pushed my limit for asking personal questions, however, so I cast about for some other topic.
“What about you?” Cathwell asks before I can think of something. “How did you end up in the military?”
“Me?”
She nods.
No one has ever asked me about my past before. It’s disconcerting. “I met General Austin at an event my father hosted. He told me if I ever wanted to join the military, I would be more than welcome.”
“And you wanted to join the military?”
“Well, no. Actually, at the time he said it, I never thought I’d even consider taking him up on his offer.”
“So what changed?”
Against my will, memories of Father come back to me, more feelings than any vivid recollections. Constantly being brushed aside, concentrating on nothing but my studies and responsibilities as his heir to please him, and always being presented with Can’t you even do this much right?
The night I stood outside his room and overheard his conversation with our maid.
“I realized I was never going to be good enough for my father,” I say. “That there was no point in me remaining home any longer.” If one could even call it such. How can a place you were only ever rejected be a home?
When Cathwell doesn’t reply, I realize I wasn’t very clear in my explanation. Should I tell her everything? She told me, after all, even though it must have been painful.
“My mother died when I was born,” I say. “And my father is the head of one of the larger underground farm corporations. I was raised as his successor. He hired all sorts of tutors to teach me everything from chemistry to finances to religion.”
“And piano?”
I smile. “And piano.” I absently stroke her hair. “When I was still very young, my father and our maid realized I was a Nyte. I was too strong, too fast to heal. After that, Father became distant. Well, more so. He only spoke to me when we were in public and he had to pretend we were close, like I was normal. It only became more strained between the two of us as the years passed.”
“He didn’t disown you for being a Nyte?” Cathwell asks. I can feel her heartbeat nearly against my own. It’s much slower than before, calmer, and yet it makes mine pick up speed. “That’s what most people in power do, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think he wanted to hand the company over to anyone else,” I say. “He didn’t trust the people working under him. At least with me, he knew I would do whatever he wanted.” The memory of how easily I would comply with whatever he said makes my stomach turn. He could have told me to bring him back a live three-headed Feral and I likely would have attempted it.
“So what made you decide to join the military?”
The same words that have haunted me for years come to mind. I close my eyes. I already decided I would be completely open. Cathwell did the same for me, and if it made her feel better, then perhaps it will me as well.
“One night, I overheard my father talking to our maid,” I say. “I’d gone to ask him about a job. But something made me stop outside his door, and I heard him say it was my fault Mother died. That it was because she gave birth to a demon.”
It feels silly when I say it out loud. I’d been living under his constant disapproval all my life. Why should one more thing like that affect me? And if I’d really thought about it, it should have been obvious he’d thought I was responsible for her death. In a way, I was. She died giving birth to me. Yet somehow, hearing the words, and the broken way he said them, and the awful way in which he really and truly believed them, glass ripped through my chest. I kne
w I couldn’t stay in that place any longer. I couldn’t stay near him. “The next day, I called Austin.”
“I’m sorry.” She hugs me closer, pulling me to her this time, so that I’m the one being comforted now. “I’m really sorry.”
I wonder if she struggled to think of something better to say than an empty apology and failed the same way I did. Gods. Why do either of us even have to be sorry? What are we apologizing for?
We stay like that in silence, hugging each other tightly, the only sound that of our own breathing. Her heartbeat keeps time against mine. I have never felt closer to a person before, nor more sad.
I’m unable to tell whether it’s relief or disappointment that comes to me when cracks of light begin to appear in the rock wall. The cracks gradually turn into holes of sharp sunshine, and then a wall of it, completely free of debris. I stand and help Cathwell to her feet as Johann and Mendel come to meet us, a little cut up and bruised, but none the worse for wear.
“You okay?” Johann asks. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
I didn’t even think to check Cathwell for injuries. I quickly scan her, but she only shakes her head. Apart from her bleeding fingers, she appears unharmed. And other than the cut on my arm from Devin’s initial attack and a few scrapes from the cave-in, I’m likewise unhurt.
“We’re okay,” I say. “Thanks for getting us out of there.”
“What are teammates for?” Mendel asks. It sounds strange coming from him, but I don’t say anything. I do owe him for a second time.
“What happened to that rebel?” I ask. “Devin? He seemed to know you.”
Mendel hesitates, but Johann says, “He and some of the others got away. We can talk about it later. We should get out of here before anyone else shows up.”
I try not to look at the bodies of the rebels he and Mendel fought when I say, “Yeah. Let’s go.”
15
LAI
KITAHARA FILLS THE others in on what happened as we write our reports together in one of Central’s many meeting rooms. The task is tedious, but one I’m used to, and it goes by faster with all of us. Kitahara keeps glancing at me, and for some reason, I catch myself sneaking looks at him, too.
A Soldier and a Liar Page 13