by Dylan Steel
“To what—have my hands tied? The remaining members of the Quorum are all in excellent health, and you can be assured that they will have no intention of stepping down so soon after the loss of one of their long-standing members. That would endanger their legacies, not to mention the power they would forfeit. After a lifetime of controlling others, they wouldn’t be able to stand being at another’s mercy. Nor could I blame them. Mr. Gaztok is not the type of man anyone would want controlling their future.”
He grimaced, shaking his head. “Being nominated to take a seat on the Quorum is not the same as sitting on the Quorum. At best, it could mean years of being under Mr. Gaztok’s direct authority—years that I don’t have if I want to make any progress opposing Eprah and years for him to study everything about me.”
His eyes flicked to hers. “I hide my secrets well, Sage, but he has made a career out of uncovering precisely the type of secrets that I hide.”
Her breathing became shallow as she took in everything he was saying. He was right, as usual. On the surface, the nomination had seemed like it would help the Lawless cause more than anything, but if it meant Mr. Gaztok would begin to question Weston’s loyalty, it could be the very thing that derailed all their efforts.
She swallowed hard. “Then why didn’t you just say no?” Her voice was faint.
A short, barking laugh escaped his lips. “You’re very much mistaken if you think I had an option to say no.”
Sage’s brow furrowed.
“What? You honestly think anyone in Eprah is free? No one is. Not even a benefactor. Not even a Bennick,” he said bitterly. “Refusing such a generous offer would have been beyond suspicious. And it doesn’t matter. I’ll never be on the Quorum. Neither will Serefina. Edward Grayson, on the other hand, is positioned quite well to take over one of their seats.”
“So is Kai,” Sage muttered, unable to stop her nose from wrinkling at the distasteful thought.
There was a time she might not have thought it would’ve been such a bad idea, but that was before she saw the type of man Kai would become—a remorseless killer with the sole motivation of serving Eprah.
A shudder ran along her spine. He’d make a great fit for the Quorum.
“Indeed.” Weston ran a finger along the rim of his glass thoughtfully.
“But none of it matters, right? I mean, you already said it. The rest of the Quorum’s not going to step down, so it’s a long way off. You have time to figure something out.”
Weston gave her a strange look. “It’s only a long way off under the best of circumstances—for instance, if Nicholas Pruitt died of natural causes.”
Sage’s eyes widened with understanding.
“You think Mr. Gaztok is going to pick off the other members of the Quorum.”
He tapped his glass, his eyes never leaving hers. “And after the attempt on my life, I can guarantee you that I won’t be first on the list of replacements.”
Her face fell. His sour mood made more sense now. “So what’s your plan? You always have a plan.” She knew she sounded desperate, but she couldn’t help it. The Lawless position was more precarious than ever, and she hadn’t joined them again after all this time just to fail.
Weston slammed his glass down and stormed across the room. Frowning, Sage stumbled after him, not sure if he wanted her to follow.
“What do you know about Eprah’s history?”
“What?” She drew up to a sudden stop behind him as he pulled an old book from the shelf.
“Did your history lessons teach you that the Lawless were annihilated once before? Eprah thought they’d won.”
“Yeah. But we know they didn’t.”
“Of course not. Even if they’d succeeded in killing every last Lawless rebel, not everyone can always be asleep. There will always be some people who recognize what is just and what is unjust, and among that group of people are always those who will be brave enough to fight for what is just.”
He thrust the book into her hands, tapping the cover for emphasis as he spoke.
“They rounded up every known and suspected Lawless rebel and sympathizer. And then the Quorum proposed an impossible deal: If any of the Lawless wanted to live—to be pardoned—they had to not only promise a lifetime of fealty but also turn in the names of every Lawless member and sympathizer they knew. If they didn’t know or reveal enough names, their deal was revoked.”
“But no one gave up any names, did they?”
Weston looked at her sadly. “People disappoint us even when they don’t want to. Fear is a strong motivator. It only took a handful of informants to flush out the majority of the Lawless network, though I don’t think the Quorum particularly cared if they caught a few Loyalists in the net as well. That’s why we’re much more careful now about compartmentalizing information. As much as we’d like to believe that people will always do the right thing, the right thing does not come naturally or easily, and we can no longer afford to be so naïve as to not plan for that.”
Her stomach roiled with unease. “They tricked them,” she said softly.
He nodded. “The Quorum abandoned the System of Worth to make a point. It was a mass execution—a very public, very gruesome display.”
His expression clouded. “And they nearly did eliminate the entire Lawless rebellion, save a few who managed to flee and live in hiding for years. It took far too long to rebuild our numbers, and the few that were left were forced to severely limit their efforts to preserve the cause.”
“When was this?”
“Well before either of us were born. Nearly a hundred years ago from all accounts.”
“A hundred years,” Sage whispered. How long had the Lawless been fighting—and failing?
He nodded toward the book still in her hands. “It might do you some good to read up on the parts of Eprah’s history that you weren’t told about at the Institution.”
She looked down, staring dully at the book. A history lesson was the last thing she wanted to spend time on right now.
“I’m not willing to wait another hundred years.” Determination blazed behind Weston’s eyes. “Today’s announcement has forced my hand in a way I hadn’t anticipated. Gaztok wants me dead, and he won’t wait years to find a way to do it. No other Lawless are as well positioned as I am among the benefactors, and it would take years to recruit and train another.”
“Could that even be done?”
“Possibly. It would be almost impossible to convert a benefactor—we would be asking them to sacrifice every physical privilege and comfort that they’ve ever known for people that they don’t even see as human. But the child of a benefactor—with great care and an early influence, they might be swayed.”
“But even that’s a risk.”
“And it would take far too long. Our efforts would be reset to the beginning, and we’ve invested too much for too long to allow that to happen.” His lips thinned. “If we don’t come up with a way to destroy Eprah soon, we may lose our only opportunity. We no longer have the luxury of waiting before we take action. The goal has always been to show the people the truth—to let them join us. Ideally, it would be a bloodless coup with the support of the citizens, but the longer we wait, the more people die senselessly anyways.”
Sage’s jaw clenched. That was something she understood all too well. “But without their support, how would we make sure that things actually changed?”
“Those in power would be removed, and the System of Worth would need to be replaced by a new system of government that inherently valued everyone’s life. Of course, there would still be crime, and there would still need to be consequences, but they would be arranged in an acceptable proportion. Death should not be a sentence passed down from one person to another without thought as it is now.” His eyes bored into hers, making her cheeks flush from the intensity of his gaze. “Life is too precious to be so easily dismissed.”
Her fists tightened at her side. She couldn’t agree more. The Lawless had been moving
too slowly for too long. It was past time for decisive action.
“So what do we do now?”
He stared into the distance for a moment, thoughtful. “We still have a little time. And we should use it to expose the truth of Eprah while we can. There will come a point when we can no longer wait, when we can no longer gather support. Until then, we must use every spare moment and every resource at our disposal to reach the people with the Lawless message. It may mean taking risks that we haven’t been willing to take before, but the time for talk is over. Now is the time for action.”
Sage nodded, pushing past the sensation of dread wrapping its way around her heart. If they didn’t force their way from the shadows, nothing would change. If nothing changed, all the pain she’d suffered—all those she’d loved who’d died—their deaths would be meaningless.
And that was more unbearable than the thought of being unmasked and killed as a member of the Lawless.
9. THE KEY
The gem cast a deep green tint on the page, freckled by dots of pure white light where the cut lines met in triangles clustered together around the edge, forming the gem’s oval shape. Sage pulled her eye back from the bracelet and stretched her neck back and forth, sighing.
She needed to decipher the journals soon. If she couldn’t, they’d have to move forward without them, and the thought made her uneasy. Part of her was terrified that the entire thing would turn out to be a waste of time, but she had the feeling someone thought that there were secrets worth protecting—otherwise, why hide a message under layers of impossible encryption?
Setting the journal and gem down, Sage stood, letting the blood flow back into her legs. It had already been a long day, and her lack of progress was becoming increasingly frustrating.
Weston had been stuck in town all day today, so he was no help. He was working on some sort of training that Mr. Gaztok had insisted on putting all of the Quorum candidates through. Not surprisingly, Sage hadn’t been invited.
Of course, she didn’t mind one bit. She wasn’t forced to spend the day with the most despicable people in Eprah, and it gave her a chance to work on the journals some more. If they were going to try to help the citizens of Eprah see what was wrong with the System of Worth, they needed all the help they could get, and she was convinced there was something worthwhile hidden inside the ancient pages.
Pulling on the chain around her neck, Sage moved the onyx gem up and down her necklace absentmindedly as she stared at the green bracelet. Like all the other relics, this gem was translucent, casting a blue-green shadow beneath its outline. It left behind a sparkling pattern of clear pricks of light cast by the corners where the stone had been cut and shaped into the piece of jewelry now sitting in her palm. It was beautiful, but not particularly helpful.
“How do you work?” she murmured, narrowing her eyes at the bracelet.
She pinched the onyx gem between her fingers, tapping it against her chin as she studied the rounded emerald in front of her.
Staring at the bracelet, Sage went back to sliding the dark gem back and forth along the necklace. Light filtered through the black gem as well, creating a pattern that danced over her lap and hand.
As she continued toying mindlessly with her mother’s relic, the onyx stone passed over the other, suddenly turning the green shadow almost completely black, then back to green.
Her eyes widened. Quickly, she moved the onyx gem to the side again, lining it up with the emerald stone below it. The colorful shadow darkened once again, dampening the green shadow so that no more light reached beneath it—except for a sparse pattern of pinpricks, more distinct than they’d been before.
“Eprah’s name,” she breathed.
Excitement swirled in her belly. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the clasp on her necklace. Her mother’s stone fell into her lap, and she jerked her hand toward it in an attempt to catch it, but instead, she knocked into the bracelet with her palm, sending it flying.
“Rox.”
Scrambling across the room, Sage hastily retrieved the gem and made her way back to her seat. Hands shaking, Sage set the onyx gem over top of the bracelet’s emerald and stared at the changing pattern of light and dark beneath the stones.
She set the gems in her lap and picked up the journal off the table beside her. Opening it to a random page, she splayed her fingers over the paper, pinning it in place as she used her free hand to fumble with the gems.
Stacking the gems again, she lined up the dark shadow with the corners of the page. The pricks of light widened slightly, acting as a sort of circular highlighter over different letters on the paper.
Her heart leapt into her throat. She licked her lips, fighting back the growing sense of urgency churning in her stomach. Shifting the gems, she lined up the shadow with the next page. Small halos highlighted different writing in the text again.
Turning the page quickly, Sage checked the next block of text, then the next. She flipped pages for nearly a minute, hardly able to believe what she was seeing.
Impossible.
Shooting to her feet, she dumped the relics in the chair and bolted for the library door. She needed to get the rest of the gems to see if the same thing happened with the others.
Unable to contain her excitement, she nearly stumbled as she neared the edge of his room. Grabbing the handle, she swung open the door and lunged forward.
“Oomphf!”
Sage barreled into something solid, crumpling to the floor. She clutched at her head, trying to stop the sudden throbbing.
“I had no idea you’d be so excited to see me,” Weston joked, rubbing his chest with a slight wince.
“You’re back!” Sage staggered to her feet quickly, grabbing the doorframe to keep herself from falling. “That’s… good,” she stammered, cringing against the pain in her skull. “I can show you—”
She took a step forward but lost her balance, and Weston wrapped her in his arms, steadying her.
“Slow down.”
His voice was gentle but firm, leaving little room for argument. He squinted, studying her head where they’d collided, but she wasn’t in the mood to be doctored and squirmed out of his grasp, looking him squarely in the eye with a building excitement.
“I think I figured it out.” She shifted her weight back and forth quickly, unable to stand still.
“What?” He frowned and grabbed her arm, probably thinking she was still dizzy from their collision.
“The journals.”
He froze. “You figured it out?”
“I think so. I haven’t tested it too thoroughly yet.” Her cheeks flushed at the admission.
“Oh.” His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes flicking over her shoulder into the room behind her.
“But it makes total sense,” she added hurriedly. She grabbed his arm and pulled him through the room to the library. “The gems are useless on their own, but when they’re paired with my mom’s, they put out this really obvious pattern that fits over the page.”
“What pattern?” Frustration leaked into his tone as he tried to follow her rambling.
“The lights.” Sage ran a hand through her hair. “It makes total sense why I couldn’t figure it out before though. The program couldn’t decipher it because it was looking for an alphanumeric count.”
Weston raised an eyebrow in question. “Sage…”
“It’s based on physical location,” she continued, barely pausing for breath. “The journals are handwritten. The cipher had to be a physical key because the number of characters between doesn’t matter because they can change—oh, here.”
She shoved the open journal into his hand, ignoring the incredulous look he was giving her. Grabbing the two gems, she placed one on top of the other and held it over one of the pages, watching for his reaction. His eyes widened, and she couldn’t help the self-satisfied smile that crept over her face.
“It acts like a key. When you put my mother’s gem with one of the others, it gives you a map—wh
ich characters matter for the message.”
Hope sparked in his blue eyes as he looked back at her. When she met his eyes, her chest constricted so tightly it was almost painful. She sucked in a breath and glanced away, trying to calm her racing heart.
“Is it readable from here?”
She bit her lip. “I’m not sure. Based on the way the rest of this has gone, it’s probably under another layer of encryption. But I’m hoping the program can decipher it from there.”
“Sounds plausible.” He nodded in agreement.
Holding the gems together like she’d shown him, Weston set the journal on the table and flipped through it one-handed, watching for the pattern of light below. He paused and looked up appreciatively. “This is good, Sage. Really good.”
She blushed. “I haven’t had a chance to check it like I wanted to yet, but—”
“It’s correct,” he murmured. “It has to be. Nothing else has even come close.”
“I hope so.”
“It’s going to take a long time to go through it all,” he said quietly, turning his attention back to the journal.
“Yeah.” Her shoulders slumped. It wasn’t really news to her, but it was discouraging to think about all the same.
“I’d offer to help, but…” His eyes flicked to hers, apologetic.
“I know. Mr. Gaztok’s keeping you busy,” she said, not fully suppressing the bitterness in her tone.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “That too. But I was going to point out that we only have one master key.” He nodded toward the onyx stone.
“Oh.” Her blush deepened. “Right.”
“This really is great news.” Weston set the relics down and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It seems both the Lawless and Eprah owe you a great deal.”
“It’s not that impressive,” she mumbled, suddenly distracted by the fact that he hadn’t yet let go of her hand. Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t pull away. “Just one piece of the decryption process.”
“It is that impressive. You’ve been the source of most all our progress with these journals.”
