The Infinite

by Lori M. Lee

  Reev and I took scouts through the city. Not a single civilian Gray occupied the road. The Watchmen must have ordered everyone inside and closed off the streets. It was eerie. The White Court looked deserted, its usually crowded sidewalks and bustling shops empty except for the occasional smoking grill, as if the owner had left in a hurry. In comparison, the North District looked as if it had been abandoned for years, its dusty streets and crumbling buildings the products of time and neglect. I glimpsed faces in the corners of windows and behind draperies, fearful eyes watching us as we passed.

  The nearer we came to the front gates, the more that knot in my gut tightened. Where were all the Watchmen? Where were the sentinels?

  I looked at Reev, whose eyes were like steel as he scanned the empty streets. “Are the Watchmen on the wall?” I asked.

  Reev gave a shake of his head that wasn’t quite an answer. He looked troubled, which wasn’t the least bit reassuring.

  We were close enough to the gates now to see that while the metal doors were shut and barred, they were unmanned. Stairs to the right of the gates led up to the battlements where the Watchmen archers should have been stationed. There didn’t look to be anyone up there aside from a group of sentinels.

  They must still be organizing their lines, but why hadn’t they done that hours ago? The sentinels began descending the steps. They held their torch blades. Blood threaded down some of their weapons.

  Reev’s scout intercepted mine, forcing me to stop.

  “What are you—” At the look in his eyes, I closed my mouth. Swallowing hard, I looked from him to the sentinels who had yet to notice our arrival.

  “We have to get out of here,” he said. “Those are rebel sentinels.”

  My hands tightened around my scout. We had to do something besides run. I was about to argue when the sound of groaning metal carried down the road. We both paused to look.

  The sentinels were opening the gates. The pounding in my ears grew louder, faster. The parting gates revealed Lanathrill’s army, literally at our doorstep. In the lead, Emryn sat atop a black horse. He was in full armor and draped in a black cloak emblazoned with the gold star of Lanathrill. I wasn’t close enough to see his face, but the arrogant set of his bearded jaw sent a rush of anger through me.

  “Kai,” Reev said urgently.

  I looked at Reev and made a quick decision.

  He must have seen it in my face because he reached for me, his mouth forming my name again.

  Reev was too slow. I grabbed the threads and held tight. Time ebbed to a crawl. I brushed aside the threads restraining my scout, and then I leaned low and switched the lever on my scout’s control panel to its last setting. We veered around Reev, the scout’s powerful metal legs singing against the still wind as we plunged toward the open gates.

  I drew my torch blade, focusing on Emryn.

  I would be the first to admit that Ninurta was a terrible city. Most of its citizens would sooner stab you in the back than help you if it meant they got something out of it. But I had hope that they could change. With time and Miraya’s guidance, we could tear down the walls and learn how to take pride in being Ninurtans.

  Istar would see Ninurta’s streets flooded with the blood of its citizens, and Lanathrill would enslave the survivors, stamping tattoos on their faces so they could never escape. Emryn would do more harm to Ninurta than Kahl Ninu ever did.

  He was right there in front of me, unprotected. My fingers flexed around my torch blade. I would cripple Lanathrill’s forces before Istar could open her mouth.

  I shot through the gates, holding up my torch blade.

  I had felt no remorse when I killed Ninu. He’d been prepared to sacrifice Reev and Avan to gain access to the River. His death had been the only way to keep them safe.

  I felt no remorse now. Perhaps I really had become as cold as the Infinite.

  I swung my blade.

  The threads broke free, plucked from my grasp. The shock caused me to lose control of my scout. The threads sprang forward. Emryn’s sword whipped up in that instant of speeded time. The sound of metal striking metal screeched in my ears. Emryn shouted something as the force of my swing sent him twisting sideways, nearly unseating him.

  My scout faltered, skidding and then toppling over. I hit the earth, pain everywhere, as I tumbled over the hard ground, dirt tearing at my skin. I rolled to a stop just short of the first line of Lanathrill’s army.

  For a long moment, no one did anything, too shocked to move.

  Then I struggled to push myself up. Through the mess of hair that had fallen free of my braid, I could see Avan standing between the gates.

  Avan had stopped me with the same power that Kahl Ninu had possessed. Avan had opened the gates for the enemy.

  This couldn’t be right. My ears were ringing from my fall, and I squeezed my eyes shut as if that might erase the knowledge of what had just happened. My chest suddenly felt too tight. I couldn’t breathe. Avan wouldn’t betray me. Even without his memories, he would never betray me.

  But the evidence was there in the pain of my bruised and battered limbs, in the threads that vibrated around me from the jolt of interference, and in the form of Emryn, who was still alive and being helped down from his saddle by his soldiers.

  The earth beneath me rumbled as metal paws pounded across the dirt. Avan jumped aside as Reev tore out of the gates, his scout’s mouth opened in a silent roar. The soldiers behind me scuttled back in fear.

  Groaning, I grabbed for my fallen torch blade and lurched to my feet. My arm reached out as Reev bent low over the side of his scout and snatched me around the waist. I gripped his shoulder as he swung me up behind him.

  He swerved his scout back around. Sentinels jumped in our path. I drew Reev’s blade so I held one weapon in each hand, blocking their slashes to our legs. They could do little with us on a scout. We blew past them back onto the main road and into the city.

  My gaze caught Avan’s for only a breath. He watched us go.

  CHAPTER 33

  THE SAFEST PLACE to hide was the Labyrinth. Not only would its people fight to protect their own, but intruders wouldn’t easily navigate the maze of stacked freight containers.

  We were recognized as soon as we crossed the creaking wooden bridge. The people guarding the entrance regarded us warily, but they agreed without much fuss to allow us in. Apparently, with Ninurta under imminent attack, the only unwelcome “outsider” at the moment was Lanathrill.

  We hid the scout under a pile of trash inside a caved-in freight container, and then made our way to the very top of the Labyrinth to try to see what Emryn’s army was doing, and to put as many obstacles as possible between us and anyone who might have followed. We emerged onto the roof, the old metal riddled with rust spots and puddles of trapped rainwater that never quite dried. We walked carefully to avoid causing someone’s roof to collapse.

  While we didn’t have the same vantage point as in Kalla’s tower, we were still high enough to see over the outer wall. The last lines of Lanathrill’s army were spread out against the dusky yellow of the Outlands. Large shapes lurked behind them, clustering at the fringes of the army. The soldiers crowded inward to put distance between themselves and those moving shapes.

  They were too big to be gargoyles.

  “Chimera,” I whispered.

  “Those are Ninu’s chimera?” Reev blinked, as if to clear his vision. “What are they doing here?”

  “They must have followed the army south.” I had no idea why. Curiosity? They should have been afraid after what had happened in the Fields of Ishta.

  The army had stopped advancing, but we couldn’t stay up here and do nothing.

  “What do you think Avan did to Miraya?” Reev asked. I had given him back his torch blade, and he rested the point against the metal roof, slowly rotating the handle.

  Drek. I hadn’t even considered it, but Avan had been the last person to talk to her. He wouldn’t have hurt her.

  The same
way he’d never betray you?

  Pain stabbed my heart, and I shoved away that taunting inner voice. “He’s probably keeping her captive in Kalla’s tower. And he must have the Watchmen confined somewhere as well.” My guess was that he’d tricked them into gathering for a briefing and had locked down the location. “The only buildings in Ninurta large enough would be the palace, the barracks, the Tournament arena, and the Academy.”

  “We were just in the palace,” Reev said. “The barracks are too spread out, and half the Tournament arena burned down.”

  “That leaves the Academy,” I said. “Do you know where Mason is?”

  “I spoke with him right before I came to wake you. He’d been asleep as well. Must be how he missed getting imprisoned with the others.”

  Mason would have probably made his way to the front gates, like we had, in order to scope out the army. I hoped he hadn’t ridden right into the rebel sentinels.

  “Find Mason and see about freeing those Watchmen. We’re going to need them. See if you can find the other sentinels as well,” I said.

  “And what about you?” he asked.

  We looked at each other, as if needing a moment to adjust to the realization that I was the one giving Reev orders now.

  “I’m going to talk to Avan.”

  He gripped my shoulders, hard. “You’re not going anywhere near him.”

  “I have to,” I said as calmly as I could. I understood the fear in Reev’s eyes because it mirrored mine, but I couldn’t let him see how shattered I felt.

  “Kai, I’m not letting—”

  “It’s not your decision, and the longer we stand here arguing, the more time Emryn and the Council will have to invade the city unchallenged.”

  Reev glared unhappily, lines of worry creasing his forehead.

  “Don’t you see?” I said, needing him to understand. “Avan is the rebel leader. He doesn’t just have the power to manipulate how people feel. He can also manipulate their senses. Remember how he got those sentinels under control after they attacked Kalla’s tower? He was creating illusions that only they could see. With that kind of ability, he could disguise himself right among the rebel sentinels. And not only that, but he could make them feel absolutely certain about their loyalty to him.” I looked toward the wall. The buildings stood in the way, but the image of Avan standing inside the gates was burned into my mind. “The only thing I don’t understand is why he would help Lanathrill.”

  Or why he’d be working with Istar.

  “It’s obvious,” Reev said. “He’s been corrupted by them—the Infinite. He’s Conquest now. He’ll manipulate his way into getting what he wants: to rule Ninurta like Kahl Ninu did.”

  I couldn’t believe that of Avan, but I had to admit that this new Avan was a stranger to me, regardless of those fleeting moments when I glimpsed otherwise. A day ago, he had pressed my hands to his chest so that I could feel his heart beat against my palms and told me that he knew me. Had that been nothing but a trick so I’d let my guard down?

  Maybe I should have restored his memories when I’d had the chance. But altering his threads without his consent would make me no better than the Infinite. No matter the circumstances, I had no right to play with anyone’s life.

  “I have to talk to him,” I repeated.

  We made our way down through the Labyrinth to the ground floor. I instructed Reev to enter the sewers. That had been our path into the White Court when Mason led me and Avan in to save Reev. Any barriers he might come across could be split with his torch blade. There would be no gatekeepers this time, and nobody would care about broken locks.

  “Will you be okay?” I asked.

  “You’re asking me that?” He touched my face, his calloused fingertips grazing my jaw. “I can’t keep making you leave marks on a post for me, can I? I have to trust that you’ll be okay.”

  I smiled. Reev and I used to leave marks on an old wooden post in the North District. It stood alongside the road that led down to the docks. Whenever we passed it, we made a mark to let each other know that we’d been by and that we were safe. That had always been one of Reev’s most stringent rules.

  I hugged him. His arms crushed me to his chest. I wanted to tell him that we’d see each other again, but my mouth couldn’t form the words. Instead, I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent, a mixture of soap and the fresh grass of the oasis. I counted the beats of his heart against my ear and allowed myself a moment to pretend that nothing had changed, that my world still consisted only of him and me.

  “Be careful,” he murmured against my hair. Then he set me roughly aside, and he was gone, disappearing into the sewer.

  The scout would be too conspicuous, so I left the East Quarter on foot. The moldy planks of the bridge wobbled and bowed beneath my weight. I had crossed this bridge a thousand times, and like the Labyrinth’s roof, I knew where to step to avoid the rotten boards that might dump me into the water. Crossing the river left me completely exposed, but no one noticed as I hurried across and ducked into the alleys between the pleasure houses along the riverfront.

  Even this section of the city was quiet. The docks were usually peppered with men and women wasting their credits on the prostitutes who worked and lived in these garishly painted buildings. Today, everything was still. I marveled that the Watchmen had gotten the pimps to cooperate. I’d crossed paths with a few of them over the years, and they didn’t seem the sort to close their businesses even for an impending assault on the city. If anything, they’d set up a sign and welcome the new customers.

  I crept along to a back road where piles of garbage created a stinking wall of refuse. I covered my nose, the stench making me gag, as I followed the alley until it intersected with another one. I would bet that I knew my way around the North District better than any of Avan’s sentinels, so I had the advantage if they spotted me.

  Avan’s betrayal remained a knife lodged beneath my ribs, and every time I thought about it, the blade drove deeper, ripping me open a little more. I had to talk to him. I had to hold on to hope.

  I navigated my way through narrow streets, up and down fire escapes, and along a dozen hidden paths until I reached the sliver of a footpath near the main road. The space between two squat apartment buildings gave me a perfect view of the open gates.

  Surprisingly, Lanathrill’s army had yet to flood the main road. From behind a collection of overflowing trash bins, I could see a group of rebels talking to Cassia in the shadow of the metal doors. My back tensed at the sight of her. Of course she would speak on Lanathrill’s behalf, being the voice of the Council. Emryn stood behind her, silent and stoic.

  Avan sat off to the side, his back to me as he lounged at the bottom of the steps leading up to the battlements. He was overseeing the discussion but not actually participating. I braced myself against the rush of emotions—not just pain and frustration but also anger. I wanted to scream and rail at the unfairness of it all, that Avan should have lost so much to help me rescue Reev only to become a shell of who he’d been, the vital parts of him shorn away and discarded within the River.

  I circled around the last building until I was as close to Avan and the stairs as I dared to get. I’d have to thank Mason again for teaching me how to move silently. The sentinels would have noticed me by now otherwise. I imagined myself skimming my fingers over the threads, disturbing them just enough that my magic rippled outward.

  Avan’s back stiffened. He glanced over his shoulder, and our eyes met. My fingers dug into the dry crust of the building as I waited to see if he would alert the sentinels.

  He didn’t. I retreated behind the building, pressing my back against the flaking bricks. I waited. The seconds felt like an eternity.

  Avan’s shadow fell across the half-collapsed fence that bordered the alley. I turned to face him as he slid neatly into the cramped space beside me.

  We didn’t speak. I searched his face, hoping to see . . . regret, maybe? Some sign of remorse. But there was only a stee
ly resolve. I remembered that look from another Conquest’s face.

  Finally I asked, “Why?”

  He looked away. It reassured me somehow. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Then explain it to me. I’m Infinite somewhere inside, right? Maybe I will understand.”

  He seemed to consider that, which made me want to shake him. “Ninurta is in turmoil. The city needs a leadership that Miraya can’t provide,” he said.

  “It needs to be conquered?”

  “That’s the only way to secure the citizens’ loyalty and to restore proper order.”

  I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming at him. These weren’t his thoughts, his beliefs. They were Conquest’s.

  “There are sentinels who have lived under Ninu’s control nearly their entire lives,” he continued. “They liked knowing that they belonged to something greater than themselves, a life unburdened with mundane, everyday decisions. Why do you think it was so easy to gather a group of rebels? They don’t know how to think for themselves. And the rest of these humans”—he said the word like it was an obscenity—“they’re just like them: scared and witless without the firm hand of a leader. They want to be controlled, but they’re too proud to admit it.”

  “How can you believe that?” I asked, unable to keep silent any longer. “You’ve seen the other sentinels—they’re happy to be free. Reev and his teammates were desperate enough to be free of Ninu that they risked their lives trying to kill him.”

  “True desperation would have led them to either success or death. It would not have accepted any other options. Humans find unity in chaos, purpose in war, honor in battle. It is their curse that they cannot flourish without conflict. So I will give them conflict,” he said, his voice lowering to a thrum that sent shivers through me. “And then they will welcome control.”

  There was no use trying to understand this. Avan had been Infinite for a matter of months, and already they’d poisoned his mind against humanity.

  Or Istar had.

  “When did Istar find you?” I asked. “She’s the one behind all this, isn’t she?”