by Dylan Steel
Dropping into a low crouch, she peered through a hole in the wall, checking again to make sure she hadn’t been followed by anyone. Clarette was supposed to send someone to meet her not long after first light, but her mind kept racing through worst-case scenarios. If no one showed by noon, she’d have to assume her contact had been captured. Then, she’d have to find her own way inside the city, which would—to say the least—complicate matters.
Her knuckles whitened as her eyes roamed the mixture of forest and ruins. Right now, she was completely on her own. Martha had insisted on staying back at the estate to deal with recruiting the remaining Lawless faction. It killed Sage to leave any part of the plan in someone else’s hands, but Weston trusted her, so she figured she should too. Besides, with Weston’s execution drawing steadily closer, there wasn’t enough time to do everything on her own. Martha had an existing relationship with a lot of the Lawless anyway, so it made more sense for her to bring them together.
And, she reminded herself, it was still just a backup plan. An army wouldn’t really help her get to Mr. Gaztok—not with the way he was sure to be guarded—but it would help convince him that he had no choice but to surrender. That was what she was counting on.
After meeting with the Rogues, the past few days had been spent in a flurry of activity, coordinating Weston’s original strategy with new plans to rescue him. And to do that, she had to get inside the city undetected. The last thing she needed to do was to prove to Mr. Gaztok that Weston was a liar—and the fact that she was still alive was all the proof he’d need for that.
Until then, she was stuck waiting.
Satisfied she was alone, Sage settled in a well-hidden corner with easy exits. Sighing, she leaned her head back against what was left of the cool stone wall. She knew she should keep watch, but if she had to sit here much longer, there was a good chance she might nod off. Not that sleep would be the worst thing—she just didn’t have time to waste. Not with Weston trapped in Eprah’s prison, fighting off Gaztok and his interrogators to keep her and the other Lawless safe as long as he—
A twig snapped.
Curling her fingers around the hilt of the knife, she slowly eased back onto her feet as she surveyed the area directly ahead of her. There was no one there. Probably just some animal loose nearby. All the same, once she was sure she had a clear exit in front of her, she turned to the crack in the wall, peering through the small hole.
Nothing. No wind. No animals. No officers. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t so much as a blade of grass out of place.
“I guess Mr. Bennick didn’t teach you much about stealth.”
Sage whirled around, coming face to face with the woman who’d managed to sneak up on her when her back was turned. She blinked in disbelief.
“Clarette?”
She winked. “The one and only.”
Sage frowned as the tension drained from her shoulders. “I thought you were sending someone else. Martha said—”
“Not a lot of volunteers.” Clarette shrugged, her eyes roaming the wilds beyond the fallen buildings as they spoke.
“I know it hasn’t been that long since you were inside the city, but things are getting worse,” she continued. “And His Venerableness is pulling in normal citizens to beef up the Peace’s patrols, so some of our people have been pulled in to the middle of everything right now.”
She snorted, finally pausing long enough to look Sage in the eyes. “It’d actually be helpful for intelligence-gathering—if he’d put them on anything other than the suicide routes.”
“Suicide routes?”
Clarette flashed her a dark look, not offering any further explanation.
Sage swallowed. “How’d you get out of it?”
“Because I’m like you.” Clarette smirked. “I don’t exist. Not officially, at least.”
“So how are two people who don’t exist supposed to get inside the city?”
Clarette reached into the pack slung across her shoulder. She grinned, pulling out a cuff that looked a lot like the one from the Dignitary’s office. “With the right tools, it’s a lot easier than you’d think.”
5. GRAVEYARD
“What is this place?” Sage asked as she ducked beneath the canvas Clarette held aside for her.
“Home sweet home.” Clarette grinned. “For today, at least.”
Sage wrinkled her nose as she looked around. With threadbare curtains as doors and what she guessed was a communal bathroom down the hall, this place was even less private and more run-down than the initial apartment she’d been assigned straight out of the Institution.
Despite its ragtag nature, she could hardly believe they hadn’t been stopped at any point on the way. Slums or not, they weren’t supposed to be there. But they’d just walked through the city gates. Unescorted. No questions asked. They’d wound their way through the city and deep into the sector of red dots that Sage would never have voluntarily visited before, and no one had cared.
Granted, Clarette had reprogrammed their bracelets, spoofing the identities of a couple more worthy young women who actually had the right to venture in and out of the city. She’d also made sure they were both unrecognizable beneath layers of makeup and even some prosthetics, but still—it had all seemed too easy.
“Better known as the factory graveyard,” Clarette added, looking almost apologetic. “Kinda a morbid joke, but pretty accurate. Mostly, it’s just factory workers here that couldn’t afford to keep up their initial oh-so-plush accommodations—” she rolled her eyes, “—plus a few others who lost their pairs early on. You remember how it is.”
Sage’s jaw tightened. Of course, she remembered. In the brief time between Everett’s death and her attempted escape, she’d spent time worrying about how she was going to continue to afford her small apartment alone—if she stayed in Eprah. As it turned out, she’d never needed to figure it out.
Shifting her weight, she glanced around uneasily. “And we can talk freely here?”
“For now. Everyone on this floor’s still on shift. We’ve got a few hours.” Clarette made her way to a pile of blankets in the corner of the room, plopping down on the nest. “Officers don’t bother patrolling here because they know everyone’s got a grudge. Beautification comes plenty, but unless something major’s happened, they try to stick to a schedule since it’s more convenient. And most of the people that are left over hate Eprah—and they hate rats even more, so yeah, we can talk.”
Sage bit the inside of her lip, still skeptical of how much secrecy a room with no doors could have.
“Ah, don’t worry so much. You’ll get frown lines way too early.” Clarette patted the floor beside her. “Seriously, take a load off. You look like you could use it.”
She wasn’t completely convinced, but she didn’t have much of a choice. This was Clarette’s world, she reminded herself—her connections were why Sage had come to her for help in the first place.
Letting out a slow breath, Sage dropped to her knees, settling in beside her. She started to scratch at the corner of the prosthetic on her cheek, but Clarette grabbed her wrist.
“Leave it.”
“It’s annoying.”
Clarette shrugged unapologetically. “But it’s manageable, and it makes a fast getaway easier.”
Sage made a face but dropped her hand. She didn’t want to admit it, but Clarette had a point.
“So what’s the plan?” Clarette leaned back. “There is a plan, right?”
Sage took another look around the room before looking back at her hesitantly, silently debating.
“Right. Guess I’ll start.” Clarette sighed. “I already got your virus to one of my contacts. It should be uploaded soon if it hasn’t been already. The techs working on amending the bracelet settings are going to have their hands full for the next few days.”
She paused, looking at Sage expectantly. “So your turn. How are you planning to get Mr. Bennick out and change hundreds of years of government rule?”
“Done,” Clarette said firmly. “But how can you be sure where he is?”
“I think he’s beneath the Dignitary of the Peace, but I’ll need tech access to check. And someone to help me.”
Clarette lifted an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure.” Sage’s face reddened a little. “I’ve accessed these systems before.”
“It’s not that…” Clarette winced. “It’s just… It’s a big step for any one of us to trust a new face. There’s no going back from it.”
“I’ll prove my loyalty however I need to.” Sage clenched her fists. “I can’t leave Weston there to die.”
“Glad to hear it.” Clarette nodded. “But what if you go to all that trouble and find out he’s not there?”
Sage’s shoulders sagged a little. She’d been asking herself that same question, and she still didn’t like the answer. “Then we’ll have to try monitoring Mr. Gaztok’s movements—see if he gives away where they’re keeping him. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll try following one of his men—like Kai.”
“His execution is only a few days away. Do you really have time to try all that?”
“Not much,” Sage admitted reluctantly, grinding her jaw. “It’s obviously not ideal. That’s why I’m really hoping he’s where I think he is.”
“Hoping.” Clarette’s eyes narrowed. “And if he’s not?”
Sage swallowed. “Then we skip to the second part of the plan and hope we get to Gaztok before the execution can take place.”
“Overthrowing the Quorum?”
“And Mr. Gaztok.”
“You’ll need public support,” Clarette said thoughtfully, tapping her thigh.
Sage nodded. “It’d help. That’s one of the reasons we need to get to Weston before we confront Mr. Gaztok. The people need to know the Lawless aren’t just some disorganized, renegade faction with an arbitrary grudge against Eprah. They need to see us as organized and capable of leading in the Quorum’s stead. Otherwise, we might free them just to have them turn on us.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Clarette’s lips. “You sound just like him.”
“Weston? He’s not wrong.”
“Didn’t say he was.”
Sage pursed her lips, ignoring Clarette’s knowing smile as she kept going. “As much as it would help to have Weston there to prove ourselves competent, it’s not the only angle. We’ve already established that the founders lied to everyone, and the Quorum’s been covering it up all along. And you’re not the only person I’m counting on to make this work.”
“Well, you’re just full of surprises then, aren’t you?” Clarette said dryly. “Anyone I should know about?”
“The Rogues for one.”
Clarette snorted. “Right. Bet Dred was just dying to help out.”
“I made a compelling argument.”
Clarette tilted her head in curiosity but didn’t ask the obvious question.
“They’ll provide a distraction,” Sage continued. “Remove as many officers from both Weston and Mr. Gaztok’s guard as possible. Should make it easier to get to both of them.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Clarette shook her head. “Even if he were completely unguarded, there’s no way Mr. Gaztok will allow himself to be vulnerable. Not right now.”
“I agree. He’s pretty much guaranteed to pick a really safe place to hole up in until after Weston’s execution. Impenetrable.”
“Which doesn’t bother you?”
“Not if he has a good reason to move to a less secure location.”
“And you can give him a good reason?”
“No, but someone else can.”
“Fine. I’ll bite. Who?”
Sage hesitated. “Edward Grayson.”
“The benefactor?” Clarette’s eyes grew larger. “He’s agreed to this? How—”
“Not yet, but I—”
“No way in Eprah’s name would he help us.”
“He won’t be helping us. At least, not in his mind.” Sage rolled her shoulders. “He’ll be helping himself. It’s what he does best.”
“I don’t like it.” Clarette furrowed her brow, deep in thought. “Too many things can go wrong.”
“No kidding,” Sage snapped. “But it’s not like Weston gave me a list of instructions on how to rescue him before he was arrested, so I’m doing the best I can. If you have any better ideas, I’m listening.”
“I didn’t mean—”
A familiar tone sounded in the room. An incoming comm.
Sage’s eyes widened. She shot to her feet. “Do we need to hide?” she whispered, backing toward the end of the room.
Clarette waved her hand dismissively. “We’re fine. I don’t get individual comms here from anyone I don’t know. Just public broadcasts. No one’ll see us.” Her eyes narrowed slightly when she realized Sage was still edging toward the canvas doorway. “Unless you run out there,” she said pointedly. “I know I said this floor was clear right now, but I can’t vouch for—”
“Quiet,” Sage spat, staring at the projection as it came into view.
Frowning, Clarette turned toward the comm.
It wasn’t Mr. Gaztok this time. It was Kai.
“Citizens of Eprah, I come before you with an update on the Lawless situation.” Kai’s green eyes flashed across the room. Sage swallowed hard, wondering what else could possibly have gone wrong.
“Mr. Gaztok regrets that he is unable to address you directly, but as you’re all aware, the members of our Quorum have been dealt an abnormally large amount of responsibility lately, due in no small part to the Lawless menace that has affected us all. And without a full five members, serving the Quorum requires more attention than ever. His duties may prevent him from being able to appear before you, but rest assured that he is working hard to secure a strong Eprah for us all.
“In that vein, I must inform you that the now-former benefactor Weston Bennick has confessed to his involvement with the Lawless faction…”
“Lies,” Clarette hissed under her breath.
Her eyes still fixed on Kai’s image, Sage dug her fingernails into her palms. She couldn’t agree more. There was no way Weston had given up so easily. Not so soon.
“In light of this confirmation and in an effort to subvert any misguided attempts at his rescue, the execution of former benefactor Weston Bennick has been moved up. It will take place tomorrow afternoon and will be broadcast live for those unable to…”
Sage’s breath caught in her throat. Kai was still talking, but all she could hear was a faint ringing in her ears. Tomorrow. She had barely over a day. If she didn’t get to Weston in time, she’d lose him—and, most likely, the Lawless’ last chance at freedom.
“…thank you all again for your service to Eprah.” Kai nodded, then disappeared from view as the comm ended.
As soon as he was gone, Clarette turned to Sage, her expression grim. “I sure hope you have a backup plan.”
“Nothing’s changed,” Sage said, curling her fists at her side, “except the timing. We need to move now.”
6. A PROPOSAL
“Are you sure you don’t want to wear more of a disguise?” Clarette looked Sage up and down once more, seeming doubtful. “He’ll recognize you for sure.”
“That’s the point.” Sage pulled the brim of her hat lower to hide her face. “I need him to know exactly who I am. This won’t work otherwise.”
A tinny thud from the far end of the tunnel made Clarette whip her head around. Sage followed her gaze but couldn’t make anything out.
“Get in and out as fast as you can,” Clarette whispered, not taking her eyes off the bend at the end of the tunnel. “You’re sure you can find your way to the tech room after?” She stole an uncertain glance at Sage for a brief moment before returning to her watchful surveillance of the tunnel.
Sage snorted. “Unless you’re terrible at directions. I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Just don’t be late. I can’t promise my contact will stick around if you are.”
“If I’m late, you may want to finish carrying out the plan without me.” Sage gritted her teeth. “I’ve read Weston’s file on him. Even without a bracelet, he’s as lethal as any of them. There’s as good a chance he’ll kill me as hear me out.”
Clarette spared her another glance, this time tinged with sympathy, but she didn’t offer any reassurances. Instead, she nodded stiffly. “This will all be over soon, one way or another.”
She crouched down to give Sage a boost to reach the caged door overhead. Once Sage had a good grip on it, Clarette let her go and turned without another word, heading away from the noise they’d heard a few moments earlier.
“One way or another,” Sage whispered as she watched her walk away.
Blowing out a shaky breath, she reached over her head and pushed the door open. Pulling herself up, she quickly replaced the door—which looked no different than the other slabs of concrete tile from this side of the tunnel.
The stairwell looked familiar. She’d been in its twin several months earlier with a hunk of metal wedged in her leg. This time, though, she was on her own—and in little danger of passing out from pain. Nerves, maybe, but not pain.
She didn’t waste any time speeding up the stairs. Edward Grayson was one of the more influential benefactors, so it made sense that he would claim the top two floors of another tower of the Hospitality Suite.
Fortunately, she didn’t see another soul as she ascended one floor after another—though she did have to backtrack and hide once when she heard another door open a couple floors above her. The Hospitality Suite wasn’t too busy in the middle of the afternoon, and whether they were a common citizen or benefactor, most people preferred to ride Transfers up and down so many stories.
