Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
Kann
M y heart was still pounding from the terror of nearly losing Britta and from the heat of that kiss. The memory of her dangling over that unfathomable darkness made my hands shake, even though she was now safely back on solid ground. Well, holographic ground.
Kissing her had been my way of proving that she was okay, that I could protect her and make her mine. But as intoxicating as kissing her had been, it had not changed where we were.
I needed to get us away from the hunt and back to the academy—assuming the simulation held together long enough.
It must, I told myself. It would.
At least kissing her had distracted both of us and kept her from noticing the fear that was teasing the corners of my brain and making me want to scoop her into my arms and run.
But running would be giving in to fear, and fear was a beast that would consume me if I let it. It would sabotage me, slow me, seduce me into thinking it was the answer. But it was far from it.
As a Blade, I’d learned that fear was a weakness. It did nothing but slow my reflexes and hinder my ability to make quick assessments. If I could not control it, it could mean the end for both of us. If I could not quiet the beast and resist feeding it what it demanded, it would devour me whole.
"That was impressive."
I went rigid at the voice. It was deep and Drexian, but that did not narrow it down.
I swiveled and positioned my feet in an attack position, wishing that Britta was not between me and the stranger. I gave the dark-haired Drexian who was partially obscured by a scraggly bush a quick once-over.
Not a hunter. He would have captured us by now and he would not have been alone. Not even an instructor. So, a cadet. Another one of the first years in the hunt and trying to evade the hunting teams then. I wracked my brain trying to remember all the NPCs I'd programmed into the simulation and how much of a threat they could be.
"You don't have to worry.” The Drexian held up his hands and stepped from behind the bush. “I’m on your side."
Once I got a better look, I could see he'd been living rough for days. His uniform was dirty and torn, his hair disheveled and littered with small leaves.
He slid his gaze to Britta, who no longer wore a cloak to hide her long hair. His eyes widened, and he looked back at me. "What is a female doing here?"
I let out a slow breath. "It is a long story, and I doubt you would believe me if I told you."
His gaze narrowed slightly. “Who are you? You are not any cadet I have seen, and I know all the first years.”
Grek me. Were we going to be this close to safety and thwarted by a fake cadet from my own simulation? I ran though options in my head. I could kill him since he wasn’t actually alive. I could wound him so he could not follow us. But would he be able to send up an alarm?
"Would you believe we're from the future?" Britta asked, before I had determined the best course of action.
I swung my head to her. Which one of us was the impulsive one now?
The cadet studied us both for a long moment, taking in our slightly different uniforms under our robes and the fact that one of us was a female. “I would.”
I exhaled, glad that Britta’s gamble had worked.
"But why are you here?"
"Malfunction," Britta said, which was both true and not the entire truth.
I steered the conversation away from time travel and any technicalities that could reveal the truth. “Who are you?"
"Zokren," the cadet replied, and I felt as if I'd been punched in the gut.
Zokren. My ancestor. I'd included him in the program, because he'd been one of the legendary survivors of the Silent Hunt, one of the few cadets who'd managed to evade capture for the entire three-day trial. His survival had been the reason I had known about the hunt in the first place. His tale had been told by my family for generations.
Even though he was not real, even though he was only a simulation, even though it was not truly my ancestor, the revelation gave me a jolt.
"There are more hunting parties out there," Zokren continued, oblivious to my shock. "And more traps. They've rigged most of the direct paths to the academy." He described a series of pit traps, similar to the one Britta had nearly fallen into, along with some nastier surprises—trip wires that triggered stun fields, pressure plates that released sleeping gas. All details I knew because I had included them in the design.
I cursed myself under my breath for my diligence and insistence that the simulation be accurate. Then I thought about the program I'd written; about all the traps I'd included based on historical records. There were three more major hazards between us and the academy that Zokren didn't know about—a net covered in vines over a ravine, snares that would snatch us into the air and dangle us upside-down from a tree, and a particularly nasty pool of suction slime.
The ground trembled beneath our feet again, and for a moment, Zokren's image flickered like a bad transmission. When he solidified, he didn't seem to have noticed anything wrong. Of course not—he was just a program, no matter how convincingly real he seemed.
"We need to get back to the academy," I said, cutting off his explanation of the trap patterns. "What's the safest route?"
Zokren pointed through the trees. "There's a hidden tunnel entrance about half a click that way. The hunters don't know about it yet." He grinned. "Found it by accident when I was running from a patrol yesterday. It comes up right inside the west wing of the academy."
I exchanged a glance with Britta. The west wing—exactly where we needed to go. But I also knew what was between us and that tunnel system, and none of it was good.
"The last hunting party swept through here about an hour ago. They’re moving in rotations, so we should have time."
I was impressed that a simulation had deduced the pattern I’d designed for the hunting parties. Was it possible that the characters had developed beyond their parameters? I shook my head. No, that would mean that the simulation had evolved beyond being a simple program of light made into matter. That wasn’t possible.
Zokren looked at Britta then flicked his gaze to me. “If you are time travelers, why did you come here? Why come to the middle of the hunt?”
“A great question,” I muttered under my breath.
Before I could respond, another tremor shook the forest. This time, the trees themselves seemed to flicker in and out of existence. Zokren's form wavered, became transparent for a moment, then snapped back into solidity.
He frowned. “That's not right." He looked at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. "This isn’t—” His eyes met mine, filled with a depth that shouldn't have been possible for a simulated character. "What is happening?”
Another excellent question, but one I could not dwell on.
“We need to return to the academy,” I told Zokren. “Are you with us or—”
“I cannot leave the hunt, or I will lose.” He shook his head, meeting my gaze and holding it for a long beat. “But I will not betray you—either of you. Go.”
A strange pang of familiarity twisted my heart, and I thumped my fist across my chest in salute, even though I outranked the cadet. “Thank you.”
He returned the salute and gave me a small bow of his head. “I hope you get back to your own time.”
So did I.
I grabbed Britta's hand as the ground rumbled. “Time to run.”