The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell

by Leanne Pearson

  'You arsehole!' I slap Malachy's arm, ignoring his peels of laughter. 'You knew he was coming!' I realise it suddenly. It's what Malachy mumbled against me, the sentence I didn't hear. 'That was really embarrassing and now I'm going to be stuck in a room with him!'

  'You'll get over it.' Mal smiles and kisses the tip of my nose, amused by my embarrassment, and I'm so glad to see him making jokes that I forget all about the part he played in bringing Sir Alec to Lorna.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Eve.

  The situation down in the Institute dungeons changes drastically over the next week. As promised, Vlad informs the other Rebels of the plan soon after Asil and his group arrive. There are questions, doubts, accusations, but Vlad answers and deflects them all, giving as much information as he says he has himself.

  On paper, the plan appears fairly simple:

  Leave the Institute,

  Head to the Confine,

  Take down the guards,

  Free the prisoners.

  But when thoroughly combed over, the wrinkles seem too difficult for even Vlad and Vanessa to iron out. There's the issue of leaving the Institute now that forty or so Auctorita soldiers man the grounds, the size of the groups we'll need to travel in (even without the Rebels now missing), our entrance to the mountain range the Confine is situated in, not to mention a battle strategy when it comes to actually holding the guards. It's a lot to figure out. Vlad and Vanessa have only the basics and – besides Sir Alec – no way of finding out what other precautions the Auctoritas have taken since the Rebels' Hell break out.

  Sir Alec returns three days later, entering the dungeon room only briefly to seek out Vlad before the two men disappear into the corridor. I watch Vanessa twitch irritably, pacing back and forth, desperate to be included in their conversation. She's like a dog waiting for its master and I chuckle to myself as I watch her, even though I'm almost as desperate as she is to eavesdrop.

  Finally, after twenty minutes or so, Vlad returns without the headmaster and Vanessa steps dutifully to his side, ready for one of their whispered discussions. Instead, Vlad addresses the entire room.

  'Sir Alec has secured the date,' He speaks loudly, his measured voice bouncing off the stone walls. A hush falls over the large group. 'The Auctoritas will leave Mount Kamen on the evening of the third. Sir Alec has organised one of his famous james, a gathering of sorts where the most powerful and influential figures of our world come together to discuss politics and make connections. He's been known to organise one or two of these meets every few years for the past several decades, and the Auctoritas always attend. They suspect nothing, so he tells me, and were more than happy to leave the confines – pardon the expression – of Mount Kamen to attend.'

  'And the AG will definitely be with them?' Stacey asks breathlessly.

  'The AG go wherever the Auctoritas go,' Vanessa steps forward, eager to share her knowledge. 'There's zero chance they'll stay behind.'

  'What's more, the jame will be held in Argentina, twelve thousand miles from the Plateau. It will give us plenty of time,' Vlad allows us a few moments of hushed discussion, at the end of which a general murmur of approval circles the room. 'I also discussed with Sir Alec the subject of our accommodation over the next month, and he has agreed that we may have full, unrestricted use of the dungeons. We will require every pair of hands. I'll split you into groups and designate you an area.'

  The next three days are a flurry of activity such as the dungeons have never seen. The two main rooms are designated to general living space; additional – more comfortable – furniture is provided by Sir Alec, as well as entertainment such as books, magazines and even music. The pathetic shower room would take months to renovate so we resort to the little underwater cave where we swim out in groups to bathe. The four smaller rooms are converted into clean, practical spaces to be used for training. We will divide into groups based on capability, led by one of the more experienced Rebels who will teach us step by step how to plan and execute a large scale attack.

  It feels wonderful to be doing something rather than sitting around waiting for information, and the dungeons begin to feel like home to most of us. On the fourth day, something happens to momentarily throw us all off balance; five of the Rebels Vlad and I lost at sea return.

  I'm sitting next to Maristella on one of the new sofas, listening to her describe the Institute as it was in her day, when Jared suddenly bursts through the door, accompanied by five very wet, very exhausted-looking faces. The room falls silent for a moment, shock crackling through the air, before several people jump up and run towards the newly returned Rebels, grabbing them roughly.

  'I was out in the cave and I sensed them,' Jared appears even more shocked than the rest of us. 'At first I thought they might be Law Officers so I got ready to run, but then Anne here came swimming through the tunnel!'

  'I'm just relieved we found you when we did,' Anne, a short, stocky sort of woman, smiles. 'We couldn't have gone on much longer.'

  'It's a miracle you weren't caught!' He replies.

  'Oh, we almost were, several times. The hardest part was avoiding the Law Officers, they're like a plague out there.'

  Vlad is ecstatic when he returns from Training Room Four to find Anne and the others sitting on the floor, regaling us with their tale. It's only then that I realise how guilty he felt about losing the old Rebels; he hid it so well. He hugs them all, apologising over and over. Once he's satisfied they bear no grudges, he seeks me out. 'I have a message for you,' He smiles, his eyes alight with elation at the return of the small party. 'Lorna has asked to see you. Sir Alec isn't keen on the idea but she's been persistent. She's on her way down.' Before I can reply, Anne sweeps Vlad off to question him about the plan as yet unheard by her group.

  I'm awash with emotion at the thought of seeing Lorna again. I still feel guilty for not figuring out Vlad's plan before it was too late, for helping her to escape the Institute – even though it was her idea – and for her unwanted Immortality. Has Sir Alec changed her yet? There's no reason I can think of why he wouldn't have; Lorna is eighteen and she's escaped him once before. Immortality is the only way to ensure that she stays by his side for as long as possible.

  I head out into the corridor where the ever-present guard escorts me to the same room I met Malachy in. I'm the first one here, again, and I take the seat facing the door, drumming my nails nervously on the little wooden table. An age seems to pass before the door finally swings open and Lorna steps inside, dressed in a dark purple kimono. Her transformation is obvious, like a horrific car crash; terrible and nauseating, but impossible to turn away from. Her once pale skin is now positively transparent, her long, dark hair is lustrous and shining, and her mossy green eyes are sharp and focussed as she gazes across the room at me, her expression unreadable.

  I stand up, like a convict awaiting a judge, and wring my hands together, unsure how to address her. The guard closes the door, and with the resounding thump, Lorna shoots forward with Immortal speed, crushing me in a hug that, weeks ago, would have killed her. 'It's so good to see you!' She breathes in my ear, and I try to ignore how cold her skin feels against mine.

  'You, too!' I step back, rubbing my ribs. 'You're pretty strong now.' The absence of Lorna's heartbeat, something I'd grown so used to I had stopped noticing, seems to me like an elephant in the room.

  'How have you been? I wasn't sure you'd make it here! It seemed like such a risky plan – '

  'I'm fine!' I cut in with forced cheerfulness. 'We're all fine. Just... making the best of a difficult situation.'

  'How's Asil?' Anxiety swims in her eyes, her desperation obvious.

  'He's... okay,' I shrug, dropping my gaze. 'He's still pretty pissed off with Vlad. We both are.'

  'Well, I'm not,' Lorna shakes her head. 'I've had a lot of time to think about it and I agree with him. It was the only way. The best way.'

  'But he could have told us about it.' I grit my teeth, trying to remind myself that Vl
ad organised the meeting with Malachy by way of an apology.

  'Come on, Eve,' Lorna rolls her brightened eyes. 'If he'd have told you, would you have stayed? Anyway,' She doesn't wait for a response. 'What's done is done. If this is the only way to free my mother,' She gestures down at her new, ethereal appearance. 'So be it.'

  'When did he change you?'

  'The very first night,' Lorna makes a grim face. 'I have to admit, even though I expected it, it still came as a shock to me when he actually... you know,' She wrinkles her nose in distaste. 'And God, it hurt! Did it hurt you that much, too?'

  'It was agony.' I laugh at the memory, even though it wasn't remotely funny.

  'It felt like being on fire! But – ' She hesitates. 'It isn't as bad as I thought it would be. It's still pretty grim when I have to drink the... ' She trails off. 'But other than that I'm kind of... used to it already.'

  I smile at her. I can't help but think that maybe Asil has something to do with Lorna's new-found tolerance for Immortality. It's hard to despise something you love.

  'He's keeping me locked up though,' Lorna sighs. 'Even more so than before. I'm not even allowed to attend lessons like everyone else. I think that's actually against the rules of the Institute or something but you know Alec,' She rolls her eyes. 'He tutors me himself. When I'm not being tutored I'm confined to my room, and now I have guards who actually won't let me out!'

  'That's awful.' I touch her arm sympathetically. This is exactly what she wanted to get away from, exactly why she risked so much to escape.

  'Yeah, but it's not like before,' She shakes her head, as if she's read my mind. 'Now I know that the Rebels are here, that things are happening, it's easier to bear. Vlad wasn't serious when he offered Alec a place in the new government, was he?' She asks it as if she's already certain he wasn't. I hesitate.

  'I don't think so. Maristella seems to think he was bluffing... '

  'I thought so,' She nods knowingly. ''Cos that would be a crazy move.'

  'Mmm. So, you and Asil?' I smile, desperate to get off the subject of Sir Alec and his proposed new status. A smirk plays across Lorna's lips and she lowers her eyes coyly.

  'I know,' She giggles quietly. 'You must think I'm such a hypocrite. Crowing on about how much I despise Immortals and then – ' She laughs. 'But it's... different with him. He's different. He's not like any Immortal I know. He seems almost... human.'

  'We are almost human.' I tell her gently, and she nods as if considering this.

  'Alec won't let me fight,' She says suddenly, anger lending an edge to her voice. Her drastic change of mood is disconcerting. 'I've asked him over and over to let me be with you on the date. He point blank refuses.'

  'Well, I suppose that's to be expected.'

  'But it was my escape that put the plan into motion! I was exactly what Vlad was waiting for, even if I didn't know it at the time. Without me, none of this would be happening. I want to be there to help free the Confined. I want to be there when my mother – ' She stops, sighing heavily.

  'Your mother's in safe hands,' I assure her, resisting the urge to suggest that she's perhaps exaggerating her own importance. 'The date is set. Arrangements are ongoing.'

  'Yeah, I heard Alec talking about this whole plane thing.'

  'What plane thing?' I frown.

  'He's bought a plane or something. I don't know, I only heard part of the conversation.'

  'Conversation with who?'

  'One of his Officials. I don't think he was giving out any details, I just overheard him talking about it.'

  'Oh.' I nod, unwilling, for some reason, to let Lorna know how confused and misinformed I appear to be.

  'You must be relieved about Malachy,' She eyes me sharply. 'Knowing that his position is still secure must be a comfort.'

  'Yes,' I admit. 'Though he doesn't seem – ' I stop, not altogether sure I should tell Lorna about Malachy's break down. It doesn't seem the sort of thing he'd want me to share. And it doesn't paint a picture of him as a very solid and dependable future ruler.

  'Doesn't seem what?' She frowns, eyeing me closely. Before I have to answer, though, the door crashes open and Asil swoops in, snatching Lorna into his arms. She squeals with delight, throwing herself at him, kissing him with a ferocity she couldn't have managed as a human. I smile at the pair, completely oblivious to my presence, until watching them becomes uncomfortable.

  'I think I'll just... give you some privacy.' I mutter to no one in particular before backing out of the room.

  *

  On the fifth day, we begin our training. In groups of five throughout the day, we traipse in and out of the Training Rooms, demonstrating our skills to our chosen mentor. By coincidence – or perhaps not – I'm in Vlad's group, and this makes me work harder to show off my speed, agility and strength. The initial session reminds me somewhat of my very first Practical lesson, when Alexandrov asked us to show him what we could do. The last task of the session is a close combat contest with Vlad himself. We line up to take him on, and I'm pleased to see that I'll be going first. I'm fairly confident after Alexandrov's assessment of my fake attack on Tia; he'd called me a natural, and Sir Alec had been so impressed he'd asked me to personally mentor his precious daughter.

  I step towards Vlad, only a moment passing before he lunges at me, his arms swinging through thin air as I dodge out of his grasp. His eyebrows raise in surprise and I feel a ripple of amusement as I dodge him again. He kicks his foot out, aiming to trip me as I feint left, but I jump deftly over his out-stretched leg, turning with the precision of a ballerina to face him again.

  'Attack, Eve. Don't evade.' He tells me.

  I lunge forward, clasping one of his arms in a tight grip and twisting it behind his back, applying pressure to force him to bend over. But instead of yielding to the lock, he turns quickly, jumping two feet and untwisting his elbow. He comes to land with an arm around my neck, and uses the same move on me, bending my arm painfully until I'm completely immobilised.

  'You're not as good at attack as you are at defence,' He tells me, letting me go. 'You need to work on that. Next!' I walk back to the group, feeling stung.

  I watch the others, a mixture of abilities despite their success during the French Rebellion siege. Kristoff is far superior to Vlad in every way, and our new leader seems to accept this, lacking effort in their contest. But Maristella, though adept at landing swift, well-aimed blows, is useless when it comes to escaping tight holds. For all her attitude and rough, vulgar-mouthed ways, Stacey is absolutely hopeless when it comes to attacking. Throughout the entire ordeal she wears an apologetic, sheepish expression, as though she's always known just how bad she is. And Jasmina is only marginally better, using her long legs to form intricate locks, but failing miserably at any upper-body activity.

  At the end of the session, the stinging has subsided and I feel smugly pleased with myself. Apart from Kristoff – who was always going to be better than the rest of us put together – I definitely came top in my small group. Stacey even tells me so, calling me a 'fucking bitch' and punching my arm before stalking ahead of me. Once all the groups have trialled, late into the night, Vlad calls us together to split us into teams. The beginners will train with Grier, gradually progressing onto the more complex once they've mastered the basics. The intermediates will train with Florence, the above-average with Vlad, and the experts with Kristoff.

  Vlad begins to call our names, followed by the name of our future trainer. Maristella is in Florence's group, as is America, but poor Stacey ends up with Grier, though she laughs at herself before anyone else can. Asil is also with Florence, Jasmina and Zeke with Vlad, Vanessa is the first to be put into Kristoff's group, followed by Jared and Alfons.

  'Eve,' Vlad reads my name from a torn piece of paper. 'Vlad.' I'm unsurprised at his verdict, and choose to take it as a compliment. An above-average first year must be something to be proud of.

  Once all of the names have been read out, and any discrepancies dealt with, we sett
le into our evening routines, breaking off into our usual groups. Stacey and Zoe sit together on one of the sofas, Jasmina crouched by Stacey's feet, and I join them, smiling at Maristella as she settles down beside me. 'I pray to God we can pull this off,' Zoe says, eyeing Vlad who stands in the corner talking to Vanessa and Kristoff. 'I have always been prepared to sacrifice my freedom for this cause, but I won't enjoy another two hundred years in the confine.'

  'You won't be going back there.' Stacey grits her teeth, placing her hand protectively on Zoe's thigh. I cock a questioning eyebrow at her, but she doesn't notice.

  'It's far more organised than before,' Maristella reasons, her tone soothing. 'So much planning has gone into it. I feel confident.'

  'Two hundred years of my life wasted,' Zoe sighs. 'Even with Immortality, two hundred years is a long time. Even if we do succeed, I know nothing of this world.' She says it with such resignation, such sadness, that my eyes sting with phantom tears. Stacey tightens her grip on Zoe's leg.