Andie didn’t bother to respond. Oanni could praise himself for her capture if he liked, but she knew the truth. She had escaped from him twice, and if she hadn’t let herself be caught this time he would have never found her. So much for his sweet victory.
He directed her down the hallway beyond the blast doors, the laser at her back every step. This hallway was richly decorated as well, with the same maroon carpet and more of the wood paneling. Only instead of the landscapes, large portraits were displayed every few feet. Some of the people had familiar eyes and chins and hair, and Andie speculated that these were Jaory’s illustrious ancestors. He must have furnished this place with his treasures from his estate before he abandoned it. At the end of the hall were two large doors at least ten feet high and made out of wood. These weren’t blast doors, she noted—he must have counted on the sliding blast door for his protection.
At the doors, Oanni moved in front, turning so that he could still train the laser on Andie. He pressed his thumb to the pad next to the door and a buzzer sounded. Someone on the other side opened one of the doors, and Oanni waved her in. Taking a deep breath, Andie held her head high and stepped over the threshold.
The room was as large as a ballroom. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where there was a dais with a large upholstered chair centered on it. In the chair lounged the man she had once hoped never in her life to see again. Jaory Kruunde. He was looking off to the side, not even bothering to acknowledge her presence. Not yet.
As Oanni prodded her forward, she glanced around the room. Most of the walls were lined with computer equipment and terminal screens. She could even see screens showing surveillance footage of the city walls. They were in the actual headquarters of Jaory’s army. Andie thought of the locator. One press and all of this equipment would be worthless. Even if someone from Jaory’s army survived, they wouldn’t be able to continue to seal off the city. However, she couldn’t activate it yet; there might still be a chance for her to get away. Several other people were in the room—some at the computers and imaging equipment, a few standing near Jaory’s seat. Andie was not surprised to recognize Foedor among them. To her disgust, she also noted that boor Marek at one of the terminals. Another man she had hoped never to see again.
When Oanni had marched her right up to the front of the dais, Jaory turned in their direction and stood up, his straight figure towering over her and his eyes coldly appraising as they bored into hers. She had forgotten just how imposing he was. He was dressed in the same kind of glittery black suit that had been his habitual clothing when she knew him before, but with the addition of a deep purple sash and a crown fashioned of delicate intertwined golden branches. A single red gem was set in the front of his crown, and it caught the overhead lights and flashed brilliantly. Even though he had been hiding in a bunker for months, he had still made the effort to look like royalty.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the strong, clear voice she recognized instantly. “If it is not the runaway slave, the Citizen famous for her escape,” Jaory welcomed her, a derisive note in his voice. “It must feel like a triumph for you, eluding me for so long and returning only on your own terms.” Andie stiffened in surprise. He knew that she had not really been captured? Not a good sign. Did he know about the locator too?
She watched him warily as he lazily descended the steps of his dais, his eyes still focused intently on her face. When he was standing right before her, he suddenly struck out and backhanded her across the face, catching her cheek with his large signet ring and knocking her to the ground.
“You must think that we are simpletons if your pitiful group believes that we would just accept that a couple of bumbling fools would be able to capture someone that our best hunters and pirates had failed to find,” he commented contemptuously. Andie raised her head from the ground and gingerly touched her cheek with her manacled hands. She had a new stinging gash from the ring, and more blood was trickling down her cheek. She raised her loathing-filled eyes back to Jaory’s face, too angry to even speak.
“One of the men who brought you in proved most helpful with a little persuasion,” Jaory continued as he returned to his throne. “A pity he could not tell us the exact nature of your plans. No doubt you intended to get into my presence and perform the role of assassin. He admitted that he had failed in part of his role. He was supposed to slip you a weapon once you had safely passed the scanner, I believe.” Andie quickly concealed her surprise at this lie that her associate must have told to protect her. Or maybe he really believed that that was what he was supposed to do. Either way, it had led Jaory to the wrong conclusion. Hopefully, Jaory would just mistake her surprise for alarm at his astuteness.
“We did learn one other rather illuminating bit of information from the man,” Jaory continued, his voice turning even icier. “It seems that you stayed with those rebels because you married one. Although your husband is now deceased, you have a daughter living here on Corizen.” Jaory indulged in a self-satisfied smile. Her heart flew into her throat. Jaory knew about Tiran? Oh, no, no, no. The very thought made her chest constrict painfully. Jaory would pursue Tiran endlessly, just like he had hunted her.
But not if he was dead.
Abruptly she abandoned any plans of waiting until she might be able to get away. All that mattered was that Tiran would be forever safe from this monster standing before her. Slowly, Andie brought her bound hands up to the button at her neck. She clasped her hands at her throat, trying to look as if she was just about to begin pleading for her life.
Jaory continued his speech triumphantly. “I had decided to kill you publicly in order to remind everyone of what happens to those who cross me. However, I have a better plan—one that will make you suffer so much more and make you wish that you had never left my house.” He paused and Andie swallowed her fear. She rested her clasped hands on the button.
“You will be returned to my dungeons until we have captured your daughter. With the help of our precious truth serum, I am sure you will be persuaded to tell us where we can find her. Then, my renegade Citizen, we will both see what true anguish is.” Jaory threw back his head and laughed callously.
Andie pressed her thumb against the button and started to count under her breath. “180, 179, 178 . . .” Then she looked Jaory straight in the eye. This would be her victory, not his.
“Take her away,” Jaory commanded imperiously.
Oanni dragged her to her feet and started to lead her from the room. “170, 169 . . .”
Maybe, just maybe, she could make it out of here alive.
They passed through the large wooden doors and down the hallway. Andie forced her hobbled legs to go as fast as she could without stumbling. Behind her Oanni walked at a normal pace, the laser at her back once again. “154, 153, 152, 151 . . .” the count continued in her head. What Andie desperately needed was to make it back up that lift before the disaster struck. She could only hope that Jaory and his crew would stay in his throne room.
Finally, they made it to the lift. Oanni pressed the button and they waited.
“99, 98, 97 . . .” Andie clenched her teeth impatiently. What was taking the lift so long? Hurry, hurry, hurry! Oanni smiled maliciously. “You don’t need to get so flustered, Dia dear. It might be several days before we bring in your precious child. You should really just relax and enjoy the wait.”
Andie ignored him and focused on the counting. “59, 58, 57 . . .”
“Although I know it must be hard to be patient when you are so excited to see her,” he added snidely.
The lift doors slid open. Without waiting for Oanni’s prod, Andie hurried onto the lift. He followed and punched a button labeled “G.” Andie shrank back against the rear wall and waited. “32, 31, 30 . . .” The doors slid shut, and the lift started to rise. Her stomach rose into her throat again.
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4 . . .”
“Yo
u know, Dia,” Oanni began again.
She never got to hear what Oanni had to say. A sudden shockwave hit them that threw both into the ceiling, and sudden darkness engulfed her.
♦
The darkness parted just slightly, though Andie couldn’t remember where she was or what she was doing. The whole world seemed to be filled with a dense fog that pressed down on her making it too difficult to even lift a finger. Yet a voice was insistently demanding her attention. She ignored it, hoping whoever it was would just let her rest. But the voice did not go away and eventually she began to make sense of the words.
“You can’t give up yet, Andie,” the voice declared urgently.
I’m too tired, she thought hazily. I just want to sleep. The darkness swirled around her, inviting her to forget everything.
“No, you can’t rest yet. You need to get up. It’s not your time yet,” the voice continued forcefully. The voice was familiar and adamant, but she couldn’t place it.
It hurts too much, she whimpered mentally. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to go back.
“Our daughter needs you,” the clear voice reminded. At last she recognized it.
Laeren? she thought weakly, her chest swelling with hope.
“You can’t stay with me, Andie.”
But I want to stay with you. I can’t do this anymore, and I miss you so much, she protested wearily.
“Tiran needs you. I love you but you have to wake up. That’s an order.” Laeren’s voice was gentle but firm. His words roused the dying embers of her will.
I won’t give up, Laeren, she thought at last, summoning all her strength. I promise.
♦
The metal surface underneath Andie felt so cold, so hard. Her whole body ached and it hurt for her to draw even faint shallow breath. The darkness was so thick and heavy she might have gone blind. Her throat was terribly dry and her mouth parched, her sandpaper tongue somewhat swollen. Everything was slightly murky in her mind. For a moment she struggled to remember where she was or why she was pressed to a chilled metal floor.
Then her vague thoughts sharpened and her memories returned in a rush of clarity. She was in Jaory’s fortress in a lift. The Armada had attacked, right on schedule. Something had roused her, something other than the terrible pain in her chest.
Suddenly she heard it again. It was a clanking sound followed by a man’s shout high above her.
“Help,” she whispered feebly, her cottony mouth making sound difficult. Somehow she had to tell them that she was trapped in here. There had to be some way. “Help,” Andie managed a bit louder. Vaguely she recalled the promise she had made. Tiran needed her. I won’t give up, she recommitted desperately.
“Help!” she called hoarsely. “Please help!” She listened for a moment but heard no response. It was no use; they would never hear such a faint voice. Abruptly, Andie had an inspiration. She lay right against the wall of the lift, her legs twisted beneath her. With all the strength she could muster, Andie swung her manacled arms at the metal walls of the lift. Clang! She did it again. Clang! Her arms were vibrating from the impact, sending jolts of agony through her body, but a moment later she eagerly dismissed the pain. She could hear someone shouting in response! Andie pulled together every ounce of energy she had remaining and ignoring the screaming pain in her chest she swung her arms against the wall one more time. Clang! Andie stayed conscious long enough to hear the shouting grow closer and then mercifully, she passed out again.
22. Dawn
The early light of dawn was shining in her eyes when she finally woke up. She was lying on a bed, a real bed, with sunlight peeking in through a window. Andie blinked and turned her head to see that she was in some kind of a hospital ward. There were rows of people on cots, and a few brisk figures moving in between the people.
A nearby woman raised her head from a patient in a cot and noticed that Andie was conscious. She hurried over. “Oh, Mistress Sirra, you’re awake!” she cried. She gave Andie several sips of water and that seemed immediately to help with her voice. “Where am I?” Andie croaked.
“Kruundin Hospital,” she answered. “You’ve been here for two days.”
“But I thought the hospital was closed?”
“Not anymore. We found a load of medical supplies in a recovered stockpile,” she explained, as she checked Andie’s pulse.
“But . . .”
“No more questions, Mistress. Lie back down and rest. We must get you some food. We’ll answer all your questions in time, I promise,” the nurse reassured.
Andie did as she requested. The nurse was right; over the course of the next few days, almost all of her questions were answered. She learned that when the Armada attack had occurred, the defenses for the whole Fortress went down and the Resistance forces had stormed it. Many of Jaory’s soldiers, under this turn of events, had deserted and joined the revolutionary army. It had been almost a full day later when Andie’s clanging had attracted the help of some soldiers. They had found her unconscious, dehydrated, and with cracked ribs and a concussion on the floor of the lift. Oanni had also been found still alive and was now in custody. Shortly after that, they had discovered Jaory and his fellow leaders in the throne room. Not one of them had survived.
Madam Suze had been the one to identify Andie in the hospital the first day after she had been brought there. She had come again every day for several hours, making sure that Andie was well cared for. She also spread the story of Andie’s mission to the rest of the hospital. (Hence Andie’s place of honor in the bed by the window.) As soon as word got around that Andie was awake, she found herself surrounded by patients and visitors who wanted to personally thank her for ending the siege. Eventually, it got to be so overwhelming (and embarrassing) that Andie couldn’t rest. Fortunately, her nurse then stepped in and restricted Andie’s visitors to only a few close friends.
Bret turned up to visit Andie the fifth day she was in the hospital. He looked exhausted and ill but also more at peace than she had ever seen him before. He could say nothing at first. Finally Bret spoke hesitantly. “I can’t believe you’re alive,” he began. Then the tears filled his eyes. “Thank you,” he said fervently. “Thank you for having the courage to face Jaory. You ended the siege.”
“People are getting enough to eat?” she asked hopefully. He nodded, explaining that Morek-Li’s supplies had been airdropped within the last couple of days and that the city gates had been reopened.
“It’s over, Sirra. It’s really over.”
♦
Eventually, Andie was deemed well enough to leave the hospital and she was able to return and live with the Suze family again. Though she was anxious to get back to Roma, Urok was still the scene of Royalist battles and travel between the continents was unpredictable. Bret exercised all his eloquent persuasive powers to convince Andie to stay in Kruundin City until he was one hundred percent positive he could get her safely home to her daughter. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long. During the next few months, the revolutionary army defeated the remaining Royalist groups. It didn’t take much; with the defeat of Jaory most had given up without much of a fight. Within four months, Urok was officially declared to be part of the newly formed Republic of Corizen. Shortly after that, the shuttle services started again, and Andie was finally able to return to Roma.
She stood in line on the shuttle, impatiently waiting for her turn to exit the ship. Andie could see the vaguely familiar outline of the capital city through the window. Finally the line inched forward and she moved onto the ramp that led to the waiting room. Craning her head to see as much as she could over the crowd in front of her, she looked for any sign of Tiran. Tiran had to be there somewhere. Casey had promised in his last letter.
As soon as she had been discharged from the hospital, Andie had managed to send word to Jerrapo and Casey. Tiran had been living with Casey all this time, and he sent
her frequent letters with updates. It was better than no news at all, but those last months had dragged endlessly while Andie had waited to return to her daughter. Tiran was nearly six years old now—Andie wondered if she would even recognize her.
Then at last Andie caught sight of them. Tiran sat on Casey’s shoulders, waving a purple flag frantically. Andie smiled at the choice in flag, remembering the marketplace. Tiran’s face lit up like a sunrise when she saw her mother, and Andie was gratefully relieved to see that her daughter had not forgotten her. As for that sandy head with the face she knew so well and loved, new lines notwithstanding, he welcomed her with his old familiar smile.
Casey handed Tiran down so that she could run to meet her. “Mommy!” she cried. Andie gathered her up in a hug and buried her face in Tiran’s hair. The tears spilled from her eyes and down onto Tiran. Tiran allowed this for only a moment, before struggling out of her grip. “Why are you crying, Mommy? You’re not sad, are you?”
“Oh, no, darling, just so happy that I can’t help it,” Andie reassured through her tears.
Casey reached them and engulfed them both in a hug. His eyes searched Andie’s, and then he kissed her long and hard. Andie responded eagerly and then broke away, her eyes wide with embarrassment and shock. “You should warn me before doing something like that,” she protested, her cheeks flaming.
“I’ve been waiting to do that since I was fifteen years old,” Casey returned happily. “Don’t deny me that blessing. I thought I was never going to see you again. I just couldn’t face losing you a second time.”
“Mommy,” Tiran tugged at her sleeve, “Are you going to come stay with me and Casey? We live in an apartment by the park.”
The Legend of Sirra Bruche Page 29
