Taking the first step, every muscle tensed as the broken platform swayed. My eyes darted to the Wraiths far below us. The heavily draped room cast us into darkness, hiding the shifting platform from any wandering eyes on the ground. Still all it took was one Wraith and we were dead. Despite our careful movements, each step shifted the suspended walkway. Without question, subduing the child in Triven’s arms had been the right move. One thrash from her and the rocking platform would alert the Wraiths of our presence. Luckily, she was small. Our original plan had not been to seek out a child, but I had to admit her size made the kidnapping easier to manage. Triven would not have fared so well shouldering a full-grown man.
My toes reached the splintering edge. Legs bent to absorb Triven’s movements, I reached for the black curtain. As my fingers swept the stiff fabric, I glanced back. Triven’s gaze had steeled.
There was no going back.
19. THREATS
T HE HIDDEN PASSAGE was little more than a hole torn in a brick wall. But beyond the opening was a tiny room. Trying not to rock the platform I navigated the gap into the room beyond. It was the size of a small closet. The space was almost entirely encased in brick. The only variance was a rectangular patch covering the back wall. Faint light seeped through the fibrous material hinting at a room beyond.
As soon as I stepped onto the solid surface, Triven passed the girl to me. My back pressed against the brick as I made room for him. The darkened space was barely big enough for the three of us. The girl shifted as I moved, her head lolling back in my arms. She cast a spiking glare I refused to meet. As soon as Triven was on steady ground, I pressed her back into his arms. We forced the child to stand between us, Triven supporting most of her weight. As the knife returned to her throat, I turned away.
She was not my concern.
She couldn’t be.
One deep breath. Move.
Pressing the tip of my knife to the dense material, I twisted my wrist. The taut material ground beneath the blade. Fibers frayed. A stream of light cut the darkness. The hole, no bigger than the tip of my knife, was small but enough. I would risk a lot of things tonight, but going into a room blind wasn’t one of them.
The room on the other side was small, but lavish by Tartarus standards. Peeling red painted walls were covered with Old World paintings of long dead people in outrageous garb and the floor was almost entirely covered with fur. Bones of varying sizes and shapes hung in random groupings. Trophies. There was no ceiling in this room just as Archer and Grenald had promised. The shadowed curves of the dome were barely visible from my peephole.
Perfect.
Burning torches flickered in every corner, casting dancing shadows around the crowded room. Cracked mirrors lined the only wall space not covered by the decaying gilded art frames. It was there I could see our target. Reflected in the mirrors was a woman with ebony skin perched on a chair nearly as impressive as the one downstairs. The woman’s midnight hair was braided in thick rows, each line ornamented with a trinket. The bones, feathers and bracken made a sort of crown. At her feet slept a four-legged beast, its steady breathing the only thing setting it apart from the other piles of fur. It sniffed in its sleep as though catching our scent. The woman shifted, her long limbs hinting to her stature. The metal in her hand winked as she dragged a stone over its edge methodically, sharpening the blade.
I saw it in the shape of her eyes, the twist of her mouth.
This was Archer’s mother.
This was the leader of the Wraiths.
The material flexed slightly beneath my fingers as I pressed a hand to it. I flashed a signal over my shoulder.
Wait five seconds.
Triven stopped breathing in response and I exploded to life. The rectangular frame swung violently outward on its hinges, but made no sound. I burst through the opening, knives at the ready. My feet landed silently on the pelt-covered floor, but both guard dog and master reacted. The mutt’s head snapped in my direction, a feral snarl ripping out its throat. The woman moved too. In a flash, I dropped in a low crouch. The blade of her knife skimmed the top of my head, clattering off the brick wall. I barely heard it hit the floor.
The Wraith leader rose, reaching for other unseen weapons. The dog clamored to its feet, taking stalking steps toward me. Every hair on the back of its spine was raised. Mine did the same.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I kept my voice low, eyes quickly assessing which of the two was the greater threat. Woman or beast? Wrist snapping out, one knife imbedded itself in the dog’s path. Its snarl grew, but it stopped advancing. For now.
When the woman’s eyes snapped from the knife back to me, my empty hand had already been filled with a handgun. Its barrel focused between her eyes.
For an instant, she looked ready to call out, to order her dog to attack, but then her eyes shifted. Triven had stepped out of the opening behind me.
The child stood precariously in his arms. Her eyes were alert over the gag. The leader shifted, then surprisingly sat back down on the empty throne. She faked her ease nearly as well I did. But the pulse hammering at the side of her neck gave away the pretense. The temptation to glance back at the little girl was overwhelming. But I pushed it way. Who was this child we had grabbed?
“They’ll come running if you shoot.”
The woman’s voice was a surprise. Smooth tones, not matching the exterior at all. My voice sounded gruff in comparison.
“They’ll never make it before I put a bullet in your head.” I tilted my chin toward Triven and the girl. “Or hers. Maybe your successor will be willing to hear us out.”
The woman smiled wickedly, as she held out a hand to the animal. The dog settled obediently back on its haunches, teeth still bared but subdued. Its yellow eyes never left my face. Neither did its master’s. She shifted, sitting up taller and the bones around her neck rattled. There must have been nearly a hundred of them. My throat constricted. Which ones were Archer’s? Watching me, her hand stroked affectionately over the trophies from her victims. Her other hand opened to me inviting me to continue.
“We came to make you an offer, Teya.”
To her credit, she didn’t flinch at my use of her given name. Instead she smirked.
“You break into my home, threaten my blood, and yet you dare say this is an offer?”
She was buying time. Teya’s assessment of Triven and I had not gone unnoticed. Underneath the calm façade, I could see her puzzlement, the worry pulling at her lips. We bore no sign of another Tribe. No markings. If we disappeared tonight, she wouldn’t know where to seek revenge. It was my turn to smile.
“Would you have listened otherwise?”
Her silence was answer enough.
“If we had wanted you dead, we would not be having this conversation.” The dog snarled again. I did my best to ignore it. “But here we are.”
“Here we are.” Teya’s voice was flat as she stole another glance at our hostage. I could see her weighing the options. Was this child’s life worth sacrificing to take ours? I already knew her thoughts on child sacrifice, Archer was testimony to that.
“She’ll be the first, but not the last…” The tip of my knife pointed to the ceiling. As Teya’s head tilted back, I heard Triven press the trigger hidden in his palm. Teya’s eyes darted to something hanging high above us and then narrowed. Without looking I knew what she was seeing. Suspended in the eye of the oculus was a white sphere. The light that had once been inactive was now blinking red at Triven’s command.
“If detonated, it will level this entire block.” Triven spoke for the first time. His voice was strained but steady.
“Adroits,” Teya snarled, lurching to the edge of her seat.
“Sanctuary grade,” I quickly corrected. Her eyes popped, but she said nothing, so I continued. Now or never. “But like the other Tribes, the Adroits have already accepted our offer.” I paused, letting my lie sink in. No Tribe liked having the lesser hand. “We’re bringing down The Wall and w
e want you to join us in overthrowing the Sanctuary.”
“You lie.” Teya no longer looked amused.
Moving slowly, I momentarily holstered my knife, pulled a food pouch from my bag and threw it at her. Regardless of whether or not she could read, it was clear the silver package was not from Tartarus. She turned the pouch over with long fingers. Contemplating more than the contents.
“And what do we get out of it?”
“Revenge. Food. Weapons. Take your pick.”
She picked at the chair’s arm. “And I’m supposed to trust you, that the other Tribes are willing to join?”
“No, you’re not. In six days, there will be a gathering of the Tribal leaders. Show up and make your own choice. Don’t show and deal with the consequences.”
“Are you threatening me girl?” Teya eyes tightened.
“I’m warning, not threatening. If I were threatening you, you’d know.” I smiled crookedly back at her. “I’m telling you what’s coming and offering your people a chance to fight for yourselves. For a freedom none of us have ever known.”
Teya’s eyes sharpened with hunger. The beast growled low as she placed a hand on its mangy head. “And what do you get out of it?”
This was the question she had been mulling over. There was never a trade in Tartarus where both sides did not profit.
“A better future for my sister.” I didn’t hesitate on the word when thinking of Mouse. She was my sister and my child. My lifeline.
“And?” Teya’s eyebrows rose.
“And, I get to kill the ruler inside their Wall.”
“So, power.” The Wraith eyed me suspiciously.
“I only want to destroy one man’s hold on it, not to gain it for myself.” The words rolled out easily as they were the truth. I wanted Fandrin’s head on a platter as the rest of his corrupt empire went up in flames, but as for ruling after his death? Ruling was for more civilized people. I was not civilized.
Teya’s head cocked with a twitch to the side, making her look more wild animal than human. Her eyes were keen as a hawk’s. “You want the Tribes to unite?”
I nodded.
“Yet you clearly do not belong.” She once again searched us for markings. There were none to be found.
My head shook slowly. “I’ve never been a Tribesman and I never will be.”
The conversation was quickly coming to a close. I could see her patience was waning. Barely resisting the urge to step back toward the door, I tightened the grip on my weapons. Then understanding lit her dark eyes.
“You’re the ghost.”
“Excuse me?” Her choice of words cut. That was what I had always thought of the Wraiths as—ghosts. I was nothing like them.
“You’re the one we call the ghost. You haunt the rooftops. Rumored sightings, but no one has crossed paths with you and lived to tell about it.”
My teeth ground together. Apparently, I had not gone as unnoticed as I had thought over the years. Neither had those I had killed in self-defense.
“I sought you once. Possibly to recruit. Or kill you. Pity, you’re a hard one to find.” Her teeth were stark against her dark skin.
“Well, here I am.”
“Here you are.” The hungry look filled Teya’s eyes again. Her voice was alluring, reminding me of a Greek book I once read. A siren, that’s what she was.
I thought of Archer’s mutilated arm. Sweet talker but a monster, through and through.
“Six nights. When the moon is at its highest. The building will be marked with white smoke.” I took a step back, feeling Triven move with me, the girl still clutched in his arms.
Teya launched herself upright. The beast echoed its master, a snarl ripping from its throat. Every muscle in her body tightened as her piercing gaze darted from me to Triven, then to the girl.
Triven pulled the girl closer, whether to emphasize his threat or purely on instinct to protect the child from this warrior woman, I couldn’t be sure. Teya saw it as the former. Like the feral dog, her lips pulled back into a snarl. A subdued moan rattled out from behind the girl’s gag.
Doc’s paralysis was wearing off.
Taking a large sidestep, I slid between Triven and the Wraith leader, forcing her to stare at me, and only me. Taking another small step backward, I then forced Triven back into the covered portal.
Teya and her hound moved with us.
“Don’t.” I warned. “Follow and she’s dead.”
“Now that sounds like a threat.” Teya spit.
“It is.”
“Careful ghost girl.”
I stepped back again, but she did not follow this time. Under layers of rage there was a hint of fear in her eyes.
“You have six days.” I reminded her.
Her claw-like fists shook with anger, but the woman did not cry out and her feet remained steadfast.
“You threaten my flesh and blood to force my hand?”
Genuine shock broke my composure, if only for an instant. Archer had a sister. Dropping my voice so only she could hear, I hissed back, eyes narrowing. “It was your hand that shed your flesh and blood first, Teya. Not mine.”
Confusion momentarily defused her rage. I didn’t wait to see if understanding would eclipse it.
“Follow and they all die.” I tipped the point of my knife to the oculus again. Though I doubt she had forgotten that threat. There was more than the loss of a child holding her in place. “Six days. Don’t come, and hers will be the first of many lives you lose. Come and your people can fight for trophies of their own.”
With a careful step back, I crossed the threshold into the hidden room.
“I am a Tribal leader—”
“You are a prisoner wearing a crown of bones. You are not free.”
With a sweep of my arm I yanked the makeshift door closed and wedged the hilt of my knife between the frame and the brick, jamming it shut. If Teya wanted to follow us, she would have to cut through the barrier.
Triven was already back on the platform, hand held out to help me cross the gap. The child hung over his shoulder like a limp jacket. Her fingertips were twitching again. Dully fingering her wrists’ bindings.
Doc’s paralysis was definitely wearing off, fast. We had to move. Now. Teya may not follow us immediately, but if the girl regained control, she would alert every Wraith in the building to our presence.
“Leave her.” I whispered in Triven’s ear.
He didn’t hesitate. Swinging the girl off his shoulder, he propped her up into a sitting position on the planks. The plan was to take her, to use our random victim as bait to lure Teya to the Tribal gathering.
I was changing the plans.
Triven skillfully tied her to the rail to prevent her from rolling off and I placed the second bag of food rations in her lap.
The child’s eyes burned as her lips fumbled around the gag. Her throat jerked and for an instant I thought she would choke. With a gentle finger, I pulled the gag from the girl’s mouth.
A lazy pink tongue poked around her lips. The words were barely louder than a whisper. Disjointed and slurred. But I heard them. The message was clear.
“Run.” A lazy smile, “She’s going to kill you.”
We smothered the girl’s growing smile with the gag again and we took her advice.
A cry broke out from the floor below, but we didn’t look to see what had caused it. Teya let us walk out of her room alive, but bomb or no bomb, we hadn’t escaped. She would be coming after us. This was merely a head start.
A dog howled. The mongrel’s outrage triggered its brethren to join in the haunting chorus. A crash came from Teya’s room, followed closely by a louder one. Either the warrior leader was breaking through the passage or her rage had gotten the better of her.
I was not going to wait around to find out. Grabbing Triven’s arm, we bolted. We barely cleared three platforms, before ours were no longer the only feet running.
The metal stairs clanged with pounding steps but no battle cry
rose from the floor below.
Was it possible that they weren’t hunting us?
Unlikely.
Two more turns and we would be back at Archer’s hideaway. Adrenalin hummed in my veins. The curtain—our curtain—fluttered farther down the catwalk.
One turn.
Twenty more steps.
A scream barely trapped behind my clenched teeth as an arm hooked around my waist and yanked me sideways off the platform.
20. VERMIN
P AIN SHOT THROUGH my shoulder as it slammed into the wall. Then the ground plummeted. I didn’t have time to scramble for traction before my feet landed again on a metal surface. Triven’s hand clamped down hard over my mouth, smothering a curse. His arms pulled tight, pressing me closer into his body and further into the shadows.
I knew better than to fight against his restraints.
He had yanked us from the platforms at the perfect moment. Where the rails had stopped and a huge support beam protruded. The massive support was hollow in the center like an iron “U” and it was here that he had pulled us down. A cross beam, barely wider than our feet, had caught our fall, rendering our noses almost level with the platform we had just vacated.
I counted the seconds as Triven’s heart pounded against my back.
At seventeen, we both stopped moving. Stopped breathing.
Rattling filled the air. Bones.
Four sets of leather-bound feet clambered past. They were not running full tilt but their movements were clipped with haste—with a purpose. At that pace, they would find the little girl in under a minute and we would be utterly screwed. Fearing for her peoples’ lives, Teya had not pursued us, but her warriors didn’t know about the bomb and wouldn’t hesitate to take our hands along with our lives.
The last sole had barely passed our hiding place and we were moving again. We hoisted ourselves back onto the plank, trying not to move it. As I slid back onto the hanging dais, I snuck a glance at the retreating group. Four men and three women moved like cats across the darkened platforms. Like Teya they had long limbs and lean muscles. And like Grenald, they bore the facial scarring of warriors. This was the Wraiths’ most deadly hunting party.
New World Inferno: Book Three in a Young Adult Dystopian Series Page 15
