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Crewel

Page 29

by Gennifer Albin


  My hand flies to my stomach, and I stare at him. ‘So they’ve been tracking my every move for weeks?’ I ask.

  ‘No,’ Erik says, lowering his voice further. ‘I have. I corrupted their file. Only I have the tracking link now.’

  ‘Then you . . .’

  ‘Yes, I’ve been tracking you.’

  ‘But you haven’t—’

  ‘Turned you in?’ he finishes for me. ‘We have similar . . . allies.’

  The last word is so strained that I almost don’t believe him, except that he’s here now. Something clicks into place in my mind, something that tried to be discovered earlier today but it can’t be correct. I search his face for clues and settle on his blue eyes.

  ‘Who?’ I demand impatiently. The vague double-talk is beginning to wear on me, but I’m afraid to utter my suspicions.

  ‘Now’s not the time,’ he murmurs. ‘I hope you have a very good plan to get us out of here.’

  ‘I told you I didn’t,’ I snap.

  ‘Then start thinking of one,’ he says. ‘I’m sure you have more tricks up your sleeve, and I can only get us so far.’

  I lapse into silence as Erik drags me through a set of white swinging doors. We’re back in the main hall of the Coventry, and my feet catch on the thick shag carpets as he pulls me along. He leads me away from the meeting rooms, and we walk quickly towards the upper studio’s entrance. Several men in the coal-black uniform of the Guild are blocking the entrance, and as we draw closer, one holds up his hand to stop us.

  ‘This area is quarantined, sir,’ he states in a voice that’s all business.

  ‘I know,’ Erik says, pushing me forward. ‘Here’s why.’

  ‘Um, I need to check with—’

  ‘Cormac sent me for her,’ Erik informs him, ‘but go ahead and call it in. He loves waiting.’

  The guard’s eyes shift from him to me, and a chill ripples through my arms, raising goosebumps. It suddenly occurs to me that Erik might not be my friend; he might be leading me right into Cormac’s hands.

  ‘Go on up, sir,’ the guard says, stepping aside.

  I keep quiet as Erik follows me up the stairs.

  ‘Any ideas?’ he mutters as we spiral through the tower.

  I shake my head, and he moans behind me. If he is playing me, any plans I share with him could be turned against me. Not that I’ve thought of any.

  When we reach the final twist in the staircase, Erik grabs my arm and drags me into Loricel’s studio. The walls are empty without the default image shimmering on them. I keep my eyes glued to the floor, but even without looking up, I see several sets of shoes around me: perfectly shined wingtips, red satin heels, and several pairs of thick boots. Between them, knees slump against the floor.

  ‘Darling,’ Cormac says in an irritated voice. ‘So nice of you to join us.’

  I take a deep breath and lift my eyes. In the corner, Jost – fresh blood trickling from a cut near his left eye – is being held down by two burly guards. Not far from him, Maela and Pryana are watching me with looks of triumph on their faces.

  ‘Speechless!’ Cormac proclaims, stepping into my line of sight and blocking my view of Jost. ‘Never thought I’d see the day. Guess we found her hot button.’

  Erik’s grasp on my arm tightens, but I don’t react to Cormac’s taunts.

  ‘I suppose this changes your ridiculous plan for her,’ Maela sneers. No need to play nice if they’re going to kill me.

  ‘We’ll proceed with the remap and go from there,’ Cormac says in a quiet but firm voice.

  ‘She’ll be a better wife then anyway,’ Maela says, but while she looks pleased by this, Pryana’s eyes flash with anger. She must not have heard their whole plan until now. Can it be that she’s actually jealous?

  Jost, who hasn’t moved since we entered the room, shifts against his captors and glares at them.

  ‘Don’t like the sound of that, huh?’ Maela says in a mocking tone.

  ‘Shut up, Maela,’ Cormac orders.

  Her victorious smile fades, and she steps back towards the empty wall.

  Cormac turns to Erik, who’s still holding me in place. ‘Where was she?’

  ‘In the research area, sir,’ he says.

  I’d hoped he would rat me out and, at least, confirm my suspicion about him, but Erik’s answer leaves too much room for interpretation, and I still can’t be sure what side he’s on. I was in the research area, but why not tell them I was in the repository? Is he still buying me time?

  ‘Enough of this,’ Loricel says from across the room, and I turn to look at her. She keeps her gaze on Cormac and doesn’t meet my eyes.

  ‘We need to find out what she was doing,’ Cormac says, striding to the loom. ‘Pull up the corresponding piece of the weave.’

  Loricel moves to the command panel and enters a code. The brilliant weave of the compound glides back onto the loom.

  ‘Loricel was gracious enough to patch up the little hole you left,’ Cormac tells me. ‘But I’d like you to show me exactly what you did and where you went.’

  I shake my head, reeling from the sting of her betrayal. ‘Ask her,’ I practically spit at them.

  ‘Let me rephrase that,’ Cormac says in a measured tone. ‘Do it or I’ll kill him right now, and then I’ll rip your precious sister.’

  One of the guards removes a thick black club and presses a button on it, sending steel spikes shooting out from the top. He holds it over Jost. My eyes meet Jost’s, and he shakes his head slightly. But this isn’t about us any more. We have to protect Amie and Sebrina.

  The whole room must hear my heart racing now, but I speak slowly, careful to stay calm. ‘Fine,’ I agree.

  Erik drops his grip on my arm, and I walk to the loom. Running my fingers over it, I frown. ‘It’s not here,’ I announce, turning past Loricel to speak to Cormac.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asks. ‘Loricel, where is it?’

  Loricel knits her eyebrows, and she leans in towards the loom. ‘I must have put it back in the wrong spot.’

  Cormac pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. ‘This,’ he says with a sigh, ‘is why I need you, Adelice.’

  He mutters something that sounds a lot like ‘incompetence’ under his breath and motions for Maela to join him. ‘Go com Dr Ellysen—’

  ‘Ambassador, he’s already off-compound for the evening,’ Pryana interrupts his order, standing at a companel. Maela glares over at her.

  ‘Then,’ Cormac snaps, ‘call him in and tell him to prep the remap. I’m not putting this off an hour longer. If she won’t do what’s best for Arras, then she doesn’t deserve a second chance.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Pryana says.

  ‘Yes, let’s just finish this up and have her transplanted all at once. And, Pryana,’ he adds, ‘tell him to prep for Adelice’s remap in the morning.’

  I whirl towards him. ‘Who are you remapping tonight?’ I demand.

  ‘I’m going to miss your attitude,’ he says.

  Loricel clears her throat impatiently next to us. ‘I’m not worth your trouble.’

  I stare at her. He can’t really mean to remap his only Creweler.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Loricel says with a nod. ‘Cormac thinks it’s worth his time to remap me.’

  ‘I don’t have the time to explain the complex principles of remapping to you, you old fogey—’

  ‘Look who’s talking,’ she cries, straightening up. ‘At least I have some dignity.’

  ‘Take her into custody,’ Cormac commands, turning his back on her.

  One of the guards drops his hold on Jost and moves towards Loricel, while the other drops the club and pulls Jost up into a choke hold.

  ‘It’s too dangerous,’ I remind Cormac, my voice breaking with desperation. ‘What will you do without her?’

  ‘I’ll have you,’ he says, unmoved.

  ‘And if you lose me, are you willing to risk Arras to have your precious control?’

  ‘We have t
ime, and your sister will be ready before our raw materials run out,’ he says, staring me down.

  ‘She can’t weave,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘She won’t be of any use to you.’

  ‘If you already demonstrate the ability, she might have the recessive gene. Our scientists believe they can access the dormant gene and activate it.’ He pauses to let this sink in. ‘I’ve done some checking up on her. She’ll be a suitable substitute in every duty Arras demands.’ Cormac’s smile is mocking, twisting into something more wicked and heartless at his final threat than I’ve seen from him before.

  It hits me like a blow to the stomach. Even if I comply with his wishes, Amie isn’t safe. I look at Jost, and his eyes meet mine. Even now – bent and broken – there’s strength in his gaze. He hasn’t given up, so I can’t either.

  Maela saunters back towards the loom, and with a quick glance at Loricel, she smirks at me. She’s so close her over-applied perfume makes me gag.

  ‘The doctor is coming, and Pryana is on her way to the clinic. And I’d be happy to take care of that problem for you,’ she tells Cormac, tossing her head toward Jost.

  My fist flies and makes hard contact with her jaw. My knuckles sing where they crack against bone. It hurts in a very satisfying way.

  ‘This is why I told them you weren’t ready, little girl,’ Maela screams, wiping the blood from her lip.

  The words sizzle like spat venom. I can feel the hatred in them. I raise one eyebrow at her, and she glares in response, but Erik steps forward and seizes her arm.

  ‘Let me go,’ she says, wrenching free from him. ‘You’re on her side.’

  ‘I’m keeping you from making a mistake,’ he warns her in a low voice.

  ‘Sell it somewhere else, Erik. You think I don’t know that you’re helping her? At first I thought, Let him bed her. It will take care of both our problems. I was counting on you to ruin her,’ Maela says, lurching towards him and grabbing him by the collar. Under her rage, her eyes reflect the wounds caused by his betrayal.

  Detaching her fingers, Erik pushes her gently away. ‘Now’s not the time.’

  Spinning back, she glowers at me over the loom. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game. Do you think you can save him and yourself? Your life is over, Adelice. You’ve proved you could never take over here. You don’t have the stomach,’ she growls, ‘or the smarts.’

  And then she laughs, and it’s like she’s injected me with some type of stimulant, because the weave of the room zooms into focus in front of my eyes, and I seize the strands of it with my left hand, rending it in two at my feet. The room splits down the middle, and Maela screams at the crack in the middle. It’s a terrifying sight: a black abyss broken by shimmering, interlocking light. This would panic most people. They might run. They might go pale and clutch against the wall as Maela has. To his credit, Cormac looks curious, but maintains his position. Silently, I will him to step forward, imagining myself pushing him down to an unknown fate, but he’s clever and he keeps his wits. And his life.

  ‘I may be dumb –’ I linger on the last word for Jost’s benefit, in an effort to catch his attention; maybe if he’s watching closely he can foresee my next play – ‘but let’s see you do that,’ I chide her.

  Maela lets out a low hissing noise, and I realise she’s stifling hysteria. For a moment, it appears I’ve driven her genuinely crazy, but Loricel steps in. She’s on the other side of the rift, and the guard has lost his grip on her in the chaos. I can see her eyes growing hard with determination. There is no amused sparkle or friendly warmth in them now. They are cold, set, green.

  ‘Adelice, you have the power to stop this,’ she reminds me.

  ‘I know,’ I murmur. ‘I just can’t think of a good reason to.’

  ‘You know what will happen,’ Loricel insists, gesturing to Jost. ‘Will you leave him here to die for you? What about your sister? What about me?’

  I almost laugh until I realise she’s speaking in earnest.

  ‘Let’s see. I can save a man who’s been revealed a traitor to the Guild. Why? So they can torture him for information? So they can keep him alive, but in agony, to try to keep me in line? You know, Loricel! You know what they’re capable of!’ I’m shouting, and it sends a tremor down the open tear. Maela presses herself harder against the wall.

  ‘Tsk, tsk, Maela. Who’s afraid of the bad little girl?’ I gloat, making no effort to hide the mocking in my voice. One way or another, the charade between us ends tonight. Might as well get in a few good jabs while I can.

  ‘I’m going to need you to loosen up on him a bit,’ I order the guard holding Jost, stretching my hands as if to reach out and destroy more of the frail tapestry of the room.

  He glares at me for a moment, and I meet his intent gaze, unblinking, until he drops his arms. It’s a surer sign of defeat than anyone else in the room has shown. I edge closer to Jost, but I don’t reach out for him.

  Loricel is still thinking, and I know why. She also has the power to close the rift. This raises the question of why she hasn’t yet, and I have to assume she still hasn’t chosen a side.

  ‘What do they have left to hold over you?’ I ask her softly. ‘They’re going to kill you. Worse – they’re going to exploit your gift.’

  She smirks in a mirthless, bitter way, curling her withering lower lip into a scowl. ‘They have nothing on me.’

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘But do you?’

  Her hard eyes flash with fire, for a moment losing their coldness. ‘You’ve put us in an impossible situation.’

  ‘Not impossible,’ I say lightly. ‘Just challenging. Nothing is impossible for a Creweler.’

  ‘Except reality,’ she reminds me.

  ‘Except reality,’ I echo. I’m not sure what she means, but I know it’s important.

  And then it hits me. Reality is impossible for us to control because we work within Arras. Our talent lies in stretching and shifting. Outside of Arras, we’re nothing. We only create illusion, and the sparkling, open void revealed before us is only another piece of that illusion. Beneath it lies something else, a reality only I can discover. A place where Cormac wouldn’t dare follow me. Earth.

  But I can’t leave Jost. Or Loricel. Or my sister. Because the truth is that while I’m sure I can find my way out, I don’t know if I can find my way back. All eyes are on me, waiting for a response.

  ‘Enough of this,’ Cormac demands. ‘I’ve had enough of this drama. Adelice, like it or not, you’re responsible for every life in Arras. Stop acting like a spoiled child and fix this.’ He’s remarkably calm, but he stays firmly planted to his spot, a good distance away from the hole.

  ‘That’s just it,’ I say to him. ‘You treat us like children. But I know the truth.’

  ‘We don’t need her any more, Cormac,’ Maela calls out. ‘We’ll have Loricel’s skills transplanted, and there are those of us who’d make much better wives.’

  ‘Like you?’ he asks scornfully.

  She falls back at the harsh rebuke. Personally, I don’t think even Maela deserves to put up with this much cruelty, but it’s just what I need to get her where I want her.

  ‘Maela,’ I say slowly, baiting the trap, ‘do you know how to do anything other than mutilate a piece of time?’

  She glares at me, still standing firmly against the wall. Erik bristles next to her but stays silent. I need her to move if I’m going to kill two birds with one stone. Or at least knock them out.

  ‘Remember that night in the courtyard when you caught me with Erik?’ I taunt, but she stays still.

  She stiffens at the recollection. I’m counting on her extreme mood swings to work in my favour for once.

  ‘Oh c’mon. You can dish it out but you can’t take it? You know, I never even gave him a moment’s thought before that. He sought me out.’ I can see Erik’s bright eyes travelling from Maela’s face to mine. I try to keep my gaze directed at her now, because I know this revelation will be painful for Jost. But not as painful as t
he one I’ve just had. I know why Erik is caught in the middle of this fight, and it’s not because of me. The truth was always tugging at my mind, and I refused to see, but now it’s so obvious I can’t believe they don’t all see it. The eyes should have been enough, but there were other clues. Both from a fishing village. The pained looks that crossed their faces when they saw each other. How they seem to hate each other.

  ‘Well, I’m glad Erik kissed me,’ I say, planting my feet a bit firmer in my spot. ‘It gave me something to compare to Jost’s kiss.’

  I risk a glance at Jost and Erik. Jost’s puzzlement gives way to a look of betrayal, but Erik is watching me, trying to work out what I’m saying.

  ‘I never realised until now how similar your eyes are,’ I tell them, and Erik’s gaze widens a bit as he finally understands. ‘But it’s that and the way you kiss that tells me you’re brothers.’

  It hits the room like a bomb, ripping through the minds of everyone listening. Someday I’ll tell Jost I had to do this to bait Maela and apologise, but there’s no time now. Maela doesn’t try to act calm. She flies at Erik for hiding the information. Considering her size, it might not have done much. Except I’ve left a gaping hole open in the middle of the room, and they tumble towards it. The stunned guard doesn’t move, and I dare one brief look at Loricel. Her face says it all: she won’t interfere.

  Snapping to, I lunge toward Jost and grab his arm as Maela sends Erik over the edge of the tear. There’s no sound as he falls, although I can see his mouth open. She teeters on the edge but doesn’t fall. I’ve lost too many moments already, and each second counts. Thankfully, Jost is too weakened from the beating he took to protest as I throw us into the hole at our feet. I have enough time to see Loricel break away and move forward to begin the repair. She’s fast, and I know she’ll get it done before they can stop her, but she’ll pay dearly. In the end, she gave me my choice.

  The golden light sparkles and cracks around us, but I don’t know if it’s because the rift is closing or because we’re falling too quickly through the raw weave between Arras and Earth. Jost has placed his arms protectively around my waist. If he’s in pain, it’s the least of his worries now. He must really trust me not to be screaming in my ear; or maybe despite our closeness he can’t speak here. Tumbling forwards, I latch on to a strand and wrench us faster along the rough weave, moving closer and closer to Erik, who seems too far beyond our reach.

 

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