Chapter 26
‘Arematch?’ Atlas scoffs. ‘You wish to fight your sister, right now?’
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I took your advice and have been working hard on my training. I’m ready to show you what I’ve accomplished.’
‘Commander,’ I urge. ‘Now’s not a good time.’ In minutes, Soren will have my friends rounded up. I need to get there, not help Agatha chase Atlas’s approval.
Agatha finally meets my gaze, and I’m not prepared for the coldness in her eyes. ‘Are you afraid to fight me?’
‘Agatha,’ I breathe out, confused. My reflexes are dulled from fatigue, but even if I hadn’t slept for a week, I could still beat her with one hand tied behind my back.
‘Then let’s begin.’ She bends her knees. Her fists rise but not high enough to be in position.
Anger burns through me. She’s trapped me here at the worst possible time. I exhale sharply, then take a proper stance across from her, except my fists remain lowered at my sides. I don’t even need them.
Suddenly, Agatha runs at me.
I easily evade, while leaving a strategically placed foot, tripping her.
It’s a cheap shot, and she bellyflops gracelessly, yet somehow snags a handful of my hair.
Fire rips over my already sore scalp as I’m yanked backwards, but I remain on my feet.
‘This is a waste of time,’ I snap. ‘I have more important things to do.’
‘Like seduce Ryland?’ she mutters bitterly.
What? Did she see us?
Agatha gets to her feet, face flushed. ‘Again,’ she yells.
So she’s jealous and trying to hurt me.
And it’s far from the first time.
My jaw tightens as my anger reignites.
For too long, I’ve deluded myself that the fallout with Felix was the only cause of the distance in our relationship. But our problems started long before that, when she decided I’m the reason she’ll never be enough.
It doesn’t matter that for years I’ve shrunk myself so she could shine. That I’ve supported her interests, encouraged her studies, protected her at every chance I get. None of it matters; all she sees is that I’m her competition.
I wind my hair up into a knot, then reset my stance. Except this time, I raise my fists. If this is what she really wants, maybe I’ll stop dimming myself for her.
She launches at me again while pulling something from her pocket. A black ball. Her thumb flicks a button, or maybe it’s a pin. Then she tosses it between us. It bounces with a clank of metal. What is that?
A deafening explosion rocks the room. Splinters of wood fly as the floor is blown apart. I collapse to the ground, arms protecting my face.
Long seconds pass as I fight to catch my breath. My ears ring. Someone is coughing, and as the smoke slowly clears, I spot a gaping hole in the plank flooring. Cursing, I pat down my body, checking for damage – miraculously, no limbs or fingers are missing.
But any closer and that might not have been the case. Betrayal sweeps over me.
Ammunition? Explosives? I thought all of that ran out or went bad decades ago.
The Commander cowers in his chair as guards burst into the room, weapons drawn.
Agatha straightens cautiously. ‘I’m sorry. That was bigger than I thought it would be. But I wanted to show you: not every fight needs to be hand-to-hand. I’ve replicated some old-world explosives, and I wanted you to see how even with someone like me, it can give you the advantage.’
‘Are you mad?!’ Seething, I shove to my feet. ‘Y-you could have killed me!’
Her head turns, her bluster from before returning. ‘Could have? Yes. But I didn’t – just like every time you’ve nearly stabbed me or held your knife to my throat.’
Her attention shifts back to Atlas. ‘This was a demonstration, but it’s merely a bang compared to what I could create.
Imagine how this could be fired from a slingshot, or for large-scale attacks, our catapults.
Behind the barns, I’ve created fireballs up to six feet wide.
But we could go larger, more destructive.
The supplies I need to create this are plentiful, and I could easily make more.
’ She exhales a shaky breath as pride shines in her eyes.
‘There are many ways to fight our enemies, but this could be the greatest.’
I stare in horror. She has to know he’ll use this to raid, to harm and subjugate others, not just for defence. Which is terrifying. No place, no matter the size of their army – or the height of their electric fence – could stand against this.
Atlas leans forward in his chair, transfixed. ‘Exactly how many of these weapons have you been able to create?’
Agatha breaks into a beaming smile.
Unbelievable. She did it. She got exactly what she’s always wanted: his full attention.
And she can have it.
For the first time ever, I don’t ask for his permission. I just leave.
I race to Halkirk Tower on horseback, weaving through the dirt paths to nearly the back Notting territory.
This lookout post isn’t manned unless there’s a prisoner. It’s located on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the steepest drop below, which makes it the least likely to be breached.
Diggs and Patronis mount their horses to leave as I jump down from mine. It appears Soren summoned help from his henchmen.
‘Soren!’ I call, as I storm through the door of the rickety, multi-floor building.
A haunting moan weaves through the tower from the wind.
The first room is empty, save for a table and chairs and a rusty cot along the wall that you couldn’t bribe me to touch.
To the right is the creaky staircase to the second- and third-floor lookouts.
It also reeks from years of uncleaned excrement, making me hold my hand against my nose. Lantern light glows from the back room but I don’t hear voices. Cautiously, I step through the final door.
‘Took you long enough,’ Soren says, reclining on a chair.
Goosebumps race over my skin.
He’s facing away, staring at Lucky and Brother Thomas whose hands are tied above them to a beam in the ceiling. From the swelling on their faces, they’ve already taken some abuse.
‘What’s going on?’ I demand. ‘You were only supposed to question them.’ Spinning around, I look for something to stand on to cut them down. ‘Free them. Now!’
‘I will,’ Soren says. ‘When they confess.’
‘We’re innocent,’ Lucky growls. His lip is swollen and split on the side.
Soren stands. ‘I think we both know that’s not true.
’ He walks to the wall of weapons used for various forms of torture and grabs the whip, the one I’ve borrowed countless times on my raids.
His hand slides along the braided leather.
‘But now that Marian’s here, we can get to the real questions.
’ He flicks the whip back and forth, the tail end rhythmically slapping the floor with each pass. ‘Have you used this whip to raid?’
The question is aimed at Lucky, but a knife of fear carves a channel down my spine. I didn’t use a whip when I raided Soren the other night.
‘I’ve never raided anyone,’ Lucky says.
‘Me either,’ Brother Thomas adds.
‘Wrong answer.’ Soren pulls back and cracks the whip into the air. We all flinch at the deafening sound in the room.
‘Soren,’ I say, trying to remain calm. ‘Come on. These are good men.’
‘Good men,’ he repeats. ‘Except they’ve been handing out stolen supplies that belong to the Commander. I have an eyewitness.’
I swallow hard. ‘Anyone with a grievance could have accused them of that. Soren, you’re on the wrong trail.’
‘No!’ he seethes. ‘I’m on the exact right trail.’
I’m frozen as he retrieves a white handkerchief from his pocket, unfolds it, then pinches something and lifts it into the air. It looks like hair. Several long, brown strands.
‘Would you like these back?’ His mouth pulls into a terrifying grin. ‘You raided me the other night.’
My chest seizes, unable to breathe.
‘You were behind all the raids.’ He laughs in disbelief. ‘I can’t believe it took me so long to figure out. You’re raiding your own father and then giving it to them.’
Brother Thomas is sweating profusely, despite the dank chill of the decrepit tower. Lucky’s eyes are clenched shut.
My mind races. Something doesn’t make sense. If Soren knows, why didn’t he do this in front of Atlas?
He wants something.
‘That’s your evidence? Some hair?’
His face is hit with a bolt of anger, and he cracks the whip again, this time striking Lucky in the leg. Lucky howls in pain.
‘Stop!’ I yell. My hand goes for my sword, except it isn’t there.
For once, my weapons are missing; I forgot them in my room.
The remaining torture tools on the wall – an axe, a shovel, a few chipped blades and a pair of rusty shears – are my only options.
But to get to them, I’d have to get through Soren first. ‘Listen to me, okay? Let’s talk this through. ’
‘No, you listen to me. You humiliated me last night with the Dresden, then tried to do it again in front of the Commander. But thanks to your father, I know that nothing hurts you more than people’s suffering.
So I’m going to take another page from his playbook.
You’re going to watch them get whipped, knowing it’s your fault. ’
Lucky squirms, fighting against the rope.
‘And then,’ Soren continues, ‘you’re going to undo all the damage you’ve done. You’ll talk me up to the Commander. Get me a promotion. And if that happens in a timely fashion, I’ll keep your secret to myself, and they won’t be exiled.’
My chest heaves with panic. No matter how I play this – fight Soren or run for help – the result is the same. Soren goes to Atlas and blows everything apart.
‘How do I know you’ll keep your word? We’ve been here before, remember? You turned in Agatha and Felix.’
‘I didn’t turn them in,’ he snaps. ‘I was questioned, and I told the truth.’
‘Right. And the promotion was just a coincidence.’
He sneers. ‘You know it didn’t have to be this way – you hating me. Well, I can hate you too.’ He raises his whip.
‘Stop!’ I shout again.
I can’t watch this. A restless fury bubbles up in my throat at the thought, and it’s suddenly so much harder to breathe.
This is why I raid alone.
‘All right!’ I bite my lip hard. ‘You want to be first lieutenant. Fine. I’ll make that happen.’ It shouldn’t be too hard. Atlas was already willing to listen to Soren over me.
‘Good,’ he says, then raises the whip again to strike.
‘What are you doing?’ I shout.
He pauses. ‘Like I said, you humiliated me. A lesson needs to be taught.’
I glance at the two men, my friends. ‘They’re innocent. I worked alone.’ My eyes squeeze shut. God’s breath, I wish all of this were already over.
There’s only one way to make that happen.
I need to play by his rules.
‘Don’t whip them. Whip me. I’ll take their place.’