CHAPTER EIGHT
VESPER
I remained frozen in place, gaping at the Black Scarab, one question after another spinning through my mind.
How had a real Black Scarab gotten into the training facility? Much less all the way into the depths of the maze? Was this the only machine? Or were more automated troops invading the area at this very moment?
That last, terrifying thought finally penetrated my shock, and I looked past the Scarab, searching the biodome for more enemies.
In my experience, Black Scarabs almost always had a human minder or two to control the machines and tell them who, what, when, where, and how to attack.
I tilted my head to the side and listened.
No more clanking footsteps rang out, and I didn’t hear any shouts that would indicate human Techwave soldiers were nearby.
I frowned. If no Techwave soldiers had breached the facility, then someone from House Battis must have placed the Black Scarab in the maze.
Why? Was the automated troop part of the truebond training program?
Did Siya and Asterin know about the machine?
And how could someone from House Battis have possibly gotten their hands on a Scarab in the first place?
General Orion Ocnus, one of the Techwave leaders, didn’t just lend out his toy soldiers like a kid swapping playing cards of their favorite athletes.
More questions whirred through my mind, but how and why the Black Scarab had gotten here didn’t really matter. No, the only thing that mattered right now was the fact that my only weapon was the chunk of rock still tucked in my pocket.
Vesper? Vesper! Kyrion’s voice sounded in my mind, but his tone was weak and raspy, like it was taking every ounce of his strength and telepathy to overcome the psionic dampeners and send a thought to me.
Kyrion! There’s a Black Scarab in the maze!
I waited, but he didn’t respond. At least, not with words. The sticky cobweb of Kyrion bristled with worry, but I couldn’t tell if the emotion was for me or if he had run into a Black Scarab on his side of the maze.
My stomach clenched with dread at the idea of Kyrion facing one of the mechanized troops without any weapons, but I pushed the emotion aside. Kyrion wasn’t here, and I needed to worry about myself right now.
Clank.
The Scarab took another slow, lumbering step forward, then jerked to a halt. Gears ground together deep inside the machine, and its green eyes widened and brightened at the same time.
A fresh wave of dread crashed over me, although it quickly receded, replaced by more questions. Why let me see the Scarab at all? Why not let me walk by the topiary trap, then have the machine come up behind me and squish my skull like a grape? What—or who—was the Scarab waiting for?
Click-click.
I tensed, but the Scarab didn’t move, and the noises sounded like they had come from .
. . above. I glanced up. The camera that had been trailing me through the maze had dropped down through the energy shield that covered the garden biodome and was now only about thirty feet above my head.
The camera was also right above the Black Scarab, as though whoever was controlling the camera was also using it to control the mechanized troop.
I stared up into the lens, which widened, just like the Scarab’s eyes had. Okay, that was creepy. But the strangest thing was the feeling emanating from the camera—a giddy mix of glee and anticipation, like the real fun was about to begin.
I shivered. Kyrion’s telempathy was the most unpredictable of his powers, and it usually only let me sense strong emotions from other people.
The fact that it had surged now, despite the psionic dampeners blocking our connection, indicated just how excited my watcher was to see me battle the Black Scarab.
This might have started as a training exercise, but something else was going on now, something that was much more dangerous than eerie clouds of fog, subtle trip wires, jets of fire, and mechanical vines.
The lens widened a little more. Maybe it was a quirk of my seer magic, but for a moment, I saw my own reflection in the glass, along with Kyrion’s worried face.
Clank-clank.
The Black Scarab stepped forward, then stretched out with its left hand, like it was merely trying to grab my arm instead of ripping the limb off the rest of my body. I spun to the side, moving past the machine’s outstretched hand and keeping clear of its thick, strong fingers.
The Scarab whirled around, as did the overhead camera.
The machine jerked forward and made another slow, lumbering swipe, like it was still intent on merely capturing instead of killing me.
Weird. I dodged this new attack, then backed away from the Scarab, my mind dreaming up and discarding one desperate plan after another.
First things first. If my unwanted watcher was using the overhead camera to control the Scarab, then maybe getting rid of the device would stop the machine in its tracks—or at least make it more difficult for my enemy to see my every movement.
I yanked the rock I’d picked up earlier out of my pocket and hefted it in my hand, getting a feel for its shape, size, and weight. The rock was heavy, and I didn’t have the necessary strength to get it where I needed it to go, but Kyrion did—if I could use his telekinesis.
Doubt curled through my stomach, but I brushed it aside. I didn’t have time for doubt right now, only rogue actions that would keep me alive and out of the Scarab’s clutches.
I looked up at the camera again and snapped off a mock salute with my left hand. “You wanted my attention?” I called out. “Well, you got it.”
I drew my right arm back and hurled the rock at the camera.
As soon as the chunk of stone left my hand, I reached for Kyrion’s telekinesis.
Once again, I became lost in that mental haze, searching blindly for something I knew was there but couldn’t quite see through the white fog wisping through my mind.
I ground my teeth, ignored the cool, distracting mist, and plunged my hand directly into the sticky cobweb of Kyrion.
Touching his presence was like closing my fingers around a live wire.
My heart jolted, my skin sizzled, and white-hot stars exploded in my field of vision.
The jolting, sizzling sensations vanished just as quickly as they had appeared, and the stars winked out, replaced by the creeping white fog, which threatened to muffle our connection once again.
I tightened my grip on that sticky cobweb, letting all those tiny strands anchor me to Kyrion.
The creeping fog in my mind stopped, and Kyrion’s power trickled toward me like water seeping through hairline cracks in a dam.
I latched onto that power and gathered up as much of his telekinesis as I could.
Then I sent all that magic shooting up and out at the rock I’d thrown, making the chunk of stone rise higher and higher until . . .
Crack!
The rock smashed into the camera and sheared the device off its long black wire. The rock plummeted downward, along with the camera, and I had to lurch out of the way to keep from being bonked on the head by the falling debris.
The camera landed a few feet away and bounced across a couple of flagstones before spinning to a stop. The red lights on the device flashed a few times, then winked out.
My gaze darted over to the Scarab, but it didn’t move. My heart lifted. I’d done it. I’d disabled the machine—
Clank-clank.
The Black Scarab jerked forward. My heart plummeted. Disabling the camera hadn’t stopped the machine.
The Scarab’s head spun around on its shoulders, and its neon-green eyes locked onto me. The machine’s hands clenched into fists, and it sprinted toward me.