Her nostrils flare as I pull rank on her, and even though she’s a head and a half taller and could squash me like a water-fly, she snarls, “No.”
“Then you’ll do as I say, and you won’t tell a soul.”
Her fingers fidget toward the weapons holstered to her belt, but she just jerks a nod and says through gritted teeth, “As you wish.”
“Stellar.”
Skarlet may not like me, but she’s an honorable soldier—she won’t go back on her word. “I wish for you to take me to see Corinthe. Immediately.”
The Ariean’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.
As she opens her mouth to argue, I add, “And I further wish that you shut the hell up.”
9
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE MAKING me do this,” growls Skarlet as we walk up the stone plank, back into the mouth of the mountain.
By now the night is fully cloaked in darkness; the red sun seems to have set, and the clouds are so opaque that I can’t see any stars. Behind us only the shadowy shapes of the forest trees and the three fortresses shade the horizon.
“This is a really stupid idea,” Skarlet goes on. She’s been complaining the whole way, and her whining is making it hard to concentrate on what I’m going to say to Corinthe. “Do you even have a plan—”
“What part of shut up is giving you trouble?” I snap.
“The part where you get to keep interfering with my life and meddling with what’s mine,” she says as we reach the hidden doorway in the mountain.
I roll my eyes. “He chose. Get over it.”
“I think he’s the one who’s getting over it,” she says, glowering at me. “He was just distracted by something new, but I think it’s quickly losing its charm.”
“Quit baiting me and open this door. I’m going to make you take me to Corinthe’s cell no matter how hard you piss me off, so you’re wasting your energy.”
Skarlet presses her face to a retinal scan, and the world thunders around us as the slab of stone slides down.
“I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of this,” she says as we stride inside. The wall shuts quickly and deafeningly behind us.
“She won’t tell you anything,” Skarlet goes on. “Her mind has no reaction to Aquarian truth-telling tonics, and Stridents report that she seems to actually enjoy pain”—the sour turn her tone takes when she speaks of Scorpio’s methods makes it clear she disapproves of them—“and even the most persuasive of Librans couldn’t charm anything out of her.”
I wonder what Libran fits that bill.
I stay silent as she leads us into the cavernous heart of the mountain, the place illuminated with red flames, just as it was when I woke up here a few hours ago. Skarlet parades past two Majors stationed at either side of a passage, and my muscles clench in anticipation of an interrogation, but they don’t stop us or even ask us for identification. I thought for sure Skarlet would have to do some scheming to get us into The Bellow, but it seems nobody cares where we go.
I’m about to ask her why we haven’t been stopped yet, but the question escapes my mind when I see what the guards are protecting: a massive wall of black flames.
“What is that?” I ask in awe.
She turns to me solemnly, the dark fire’s reflection dancing in her catlike eyes. “This wall is what makes The Bellow impenetrable. The flames are from the Everblaze, and the wall is called Black Truth. This is the sole entry point to the prison: Every other surface beyond here—floor, wall, ceiling—is armed with enough firepower to bring down this whole mountain.”
“So then . . . how do we get in?”
Her manner grows professional, and I’m reminded of how quickly the Leonine Truther Traxon switched to his journalist persona on Aquarius. “If you have any nefarious plots beyond this point—if you plan to murder or break out a prisoner—this fire will burn you when you walk through it. But if you are pure in your purpose, you will walk through unharmed.”
I blink, completely at a loss for words. Finally, I manage, “How?”
Skarlet doesn’t break her official demeanor. “I can only provide this warning: If you wish to turn back, now is your only chance—”
But I’m already marching toward the fire. I don’t stop when I hear Skarlet shouting my name or her footsteps thudding behind me as I eagerly rush into the black flames’ embrace.
I’m almost disappointed when I don’t feel anything.
There’s just a slight tickle in the air when the flames touch me, and I get the weird feeling that if I were wearing my Ring, I’d sense the Psynergy’s buzz intensify. This fire feels connected to the stars somehow, like the Pegazi of Aquarius or the Cathedral of Pisces.
Skarlet is out of breath by the time she joins me, and she yanks on my arm so I’ll face her. “Helios, Grace! I’ve been through that fire tons of times, and it still freaks me out. You looked like you couldn’t wait to burn!”
I jerk my arm free of her grip. “Fear is a useless emotion. You should really try rising above it.”
Skarlet’s nostrils flare again, but I don’t wait around for her retort. I keep forging ahead, even though I don’t know where I’m going, and soon she marches past me to take the lead again. We pass another pair of guards as we turn down an endless rocky hallway illuminated by torches, both walls lined with windowless metal doors.
“Why hasn’t anyone stopped us yet?” I finally ask when we’re out of earshot of the Majors.
She waits almost a whole minute to answer me, and then she speaks through gritted teeth. “Because as far as this army is concerned, you’re the top-ranking person in the Zodiac.” She spares me a glare. “Since you woke up, your position is now official.”
I try to process what that means, but I can’t. It sounds like too much power and responsibility, and I don’t want it.
“Don’t worry,” she adds in a low voice, “when they realize you left your mind back in that Sumber, they’ll totally strip you of the title—but hey, at least it’ll be a familiar experience.”
“I must be getting you in some major trouble,” I say without looking at her or breaking stride.
“If someone reports our little visit here,” she whispers heatedly, “I’m the one who’ll be breaking the law, since I didn’t disclose this with my commanding officer—”
“Then let’s not get discovered,” I cut in.
Skarlet starts taking such large strides that I have to double my speed to keep up. By the time we get to Corinthe’s cell, I’ve memorized the number of doors we’ve passed. The Ariean places her hand against the dark metal, and a laser scans the length of her body. Then she crosses her arms and juts at the door with her chin, like she’s telling me to do the same, so I do.
After a noticeable delay, the door slides open, revealing an immaculate white room. The place is so glossy and pristine that it’s almost blinding, and I squint on walking in. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust. There’s a white bed against the wall and a toilet in the corner. Other than that, the room is empty.
Corinthe sits on the mattress wearing white scrubs, her back stiff as she stares at the blank wall before her. A curtain of blond curls conceals her face.
“What’s wrong with her?” I ask, approaching slowly and noting the metal cuffs around her ankles, wrists, and neck.
“Before the cell door opens, a prisoner’s mobility is suspended.”
When I’m directly in front of Corinthe, I can’t repress my gasp. She looks just how I pictured her in my nightmares.
What Skarlet told me on Aquarius is true—Corinthe could be my twin. Except for her mouth.
Her too-long lips look just as they did mid-transformation. When Risers shift too many times, they develop deformities that carry over through different identities; Corinthe’s massive mouth seems to be one of those mutations.
Her pale green eyes wid
en on seeing me, and even though they’re the same color as Stan’s, they reflect none of his light. Her gaze grows duller and colder as her overlong lips curve into a sinister smile that I’m sure will haunt me long after I leave this room.
I glance at Skarlet and find her standing in a Zodai stance by the closed metal door. She doesn’t offer to leave the cell to give us privacy, and I don’t feel like arguing, so I decide to ignore her.
Turning back to Corinthe’s leering grin, I say softly, “Tell me what Aquarius wants with Nishi.”
She blinks but gives no other sign she’s heard me.
“Where is his army headquartered?” I try next.
She blinks again.
“What’s his plan? How can I stop him? What leverage do I have?”
It’s pretty clear she’s not going to answer me, so I tip my head toward Skarlet and command, “Major Thorne, hand me your bayonet.”
To her credit, Skarlet exhibits no doubt or hesitation as she marches over to me. Carefully turning her back to Corinthe as she faces me, she shoves the levlan handle into my hand and narrows her catlike eyes at me in warning. I close my fingers around the reddish-brown grip and nod in understanding before she returns to her position by the door.
When I turn to Corinthe again, she’s watching me without a trace of fear, like she knows I’m only pretending.
“What does the master want with Nishi?”
Corinthe deliberately drops her gaze to my left arm, slowly trailing her eyes down the blue sleeve, like she can see every mark she carved into my skin through the fabric. I set the bayonet down on the bed beside her, and Corinthe’s gaze follows it longingly. Her arm quivers slightly, like she’s struggling to reach for it.
In a different dimension, an alternate Corinthe is mutilating my best friend’s body, and I can’t stop her unless I get answers. “Please,” I say softly. “Help me.”
It’s strange how quiet my heart is, almost like it’s not even beating.
“I’m trying to save my best friend,” I go on, and I take Corinthe’s cold hand in my steady one and lovingly stroke her skin. Revulsion flashes across her face. “Your master went out of his way to recruit her into his new army, the Tomorrow Party. Why would he do that?”
She stares at me stoically. My touch grows even gentler, and I tenderly wrap my fingers around her thumb.
Then I squeeze tight and yank her nail off.
Corinthe’s scream would awaken the whole mountain if we weren’t inside this insulated cell. The nail falls from my fingers as Skarlet pushes me into the wall.
“What’s wrong with you?” she hisses at me as I watch Corinthe panting in pain over her shoulder. “The Zodai have more humane ways of extracting information—”
“Well I wasn’t making a political statement. This was personal.”
“These Risers have been brainwashed—I thought we were in agreement on that!” Skarlet squeezes my chin between her fingers, forcing me to look at her frowning face, and I smell her spicy fireburst scent. “Corinthe isn’t the master—she’s a person who’s never known anything but hate, so that’s all she can reflect back. But you’re Cancrian—you’re privileged enough to know how real love feels. You should know better.”
“It’s so easy to think that way,” I say, envying the simplicity of her outrage. “I never appreciated what a luxury it was to see things as black or white. I guess it’s harder to do after a Riser has tortured you and branded you and murdered the people you love.”
Skarlet’s scowl deepens. “I made a mistake bringing you here. What you’ve endured has made you prejudiced—”
“No,” I say, setting my jaw. “It’s made me entitled.”
“Entitled to what, exactly?”
“Justice.”
I go around her and grab the bayonet off the bed, and I stab the blade into Corinthe’s arm. Swivelling my neck to look at Skarlet, whose mouth is hanging open, I warn, “Stand back. That’s an order.”
Corinthe’s bloodcurdling scream rings in my ears, and as her blood gushes out, my hand remains on the levlan handle, the blade still buried in her skin. My muscles recoil, and nausea fights its way up my throat, but I don’t move away. Her eyes sear with agony, and I start to lose myself in their greenness. I’ll never again see Stan’s pale irises grow vivid with excitement or shiny with emotion or dark with determination or soft with compassion or—
My head knocks into the wall as Skarlet shoves me back and yanks her bayonet out of Corinthe. Then she holds up the bloody knife in horror and stares at me like I’m the only monster in this cell.
The same horror works its way up from my Center as I stare at Corinthe.
Her smile is large and delirious, her eyes dancing with dark delight. Blood is still streaming down her white-sleeved arm, but she doesn’t seem aware of it.
“I knew you weren’t better than the rest of us,” she rasps, her voice gravelly from lack of use.
Skarlet gasps and spins around at the sound, but Corinthe doesn’t break our stare.
“You’re not so incorruptible after all.”
I step toward the bed. “You’re right,” I say, coming as close to Corinthe as I was before. “Don’t you want to see how dark I go?”
I take her hand in mine again, and I’m pleased to feel her fingers twitching in response to my touch, like she’s fighting the technology immobilizing her. “Lucky for us, you have nine more nails to lose. And that’s just for starters.”
Fear flickers in her eyes, and her smile starts to look fake. “Tell me what your master wants with my best friend,” I demand.
A muscle in her jaw quivers, but she doesn’t answer.
“Why did he recruit Nishi to lead the Tomorrow Party?”
She doesn’t answer again, and I wrap my hand around her next finger in anticipation.
“I don’t know his plans,” she suddenly growls, and I hear Skarlet step closer to us. “But I know they don’t involve your friends. So if he hasn’t killed her yet, he’s keeping her for another reason.”
For me, I realize, and I drop Corinthe’s hand.
He’s holding Nishi as leverage—she’s a prisoner because of me.
“But he doesn’t want me,” I blurt. “Not yet.” He said so at the Cathderal—he needed Mom because he wants to find the Luminaries, but he said I wasn’t ready to join him yet. So why hasn’t he awoken Nishi?
“Where is his full army?” asks Skarlet, coming up beside me.
Corinthe keeps her gaze on me when she answers. “We move somewhere new every month. I don’t know where they’d be by now.”
“So why don’t you tell us what you do know?” I ask, leaning in until our noses are almost touching.
“All I know is the Marad was unleashed to cause as much chaos and death and distrust as we can—to make the Houses pay for their sins. As long as two people never come to harm.”
One side of her mouth hitches up. “But I’ve never cared for rules.”
“Who?” I ask.
Hatred hardens the skin of her face until it looks like she’s wearing a mask. “You, unfortunately . . . and Ophiuchus.”
“Why? What does he want with me?”
“Isn’t that just the question of our time?”
She must sense the violence rising within me, because before I can reach for her hand again, she clarifies, “I doubt anyone actually knows.”
Then her too-familiar eyes light up with deadly intrigue as she adds, “But judging by his methods, I’m guessing it’s the last thing you’re willing to give him.”
10
WHEN I OPEN MY EYES in the morning, Hysan is in my tent again.
He’s clean-shaven and sitting at the end of my bed, wearing an expression too gentle for war. “I came to see how you’re feeling,” he says in his husky voice, “but I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”
All I remember is staring up through the tent’s star-shaped window at the velvety black sky, imagining what new tortures Nishi must be enduring at nightmare-Corinthe’s hand. And when glints of gold began burning holes in the darkness, a plan came together in my mind.
“Better,” I say, sliding up in my red silk pajamas and propping my back against the bed’s headboard. “Thanks for coming by.”
“Of course, Rho,” says Hysan, his voice fuller now that he knows he’s welcome. “Skar said she missed last night’s meeting because you asked her to stay with you until you fell asleep. She told me you were scared to be alone.”
My jaw instinctively clenches. Of course she would come up with a lie that makes me sound weak.
“I just wish she would have had the forethought to offer you a dreamless sleeping tonic so you could have gotten more rest,” he adds, studying what must be the bags under my eyes.
“Yeah, she’s not the brightest log in the fire,” I say, using a Sagittarian expression Nishi taught me.
Pain pinches my chest at the thought of my best friend, and I fight it down by clearing my throat. “So I guess we should have that meeting now.” I pull off the covers and swing a leg off the bed.
“Not yet.”
I stop moving as I register Hysan’s frown. “Why?”
“There’s something you need to know first.”
Adrenaline burns the drowsiness from my body, and I ask, “What is it?”
His eyes grow bright, making the golden star in his right iris sparkle, and my stomach tenses from the tender way he’s looking at me. “I need you to know I’m truly sorry for lying to you about your mom.”
“You already told me that on Pisces.” I try to infuse my voice with warmth, but his words produce only ice inside me. I haven’t forgiven him yet.
“I know,” he says heavily, “but now there’s something else you need to know. I should have brought it up yesterday, but I thought you deserved a day to recover.”
Thirteen Rising Page 7
