I use the white strings of the parachute to pull myself back on course as I begin to veer left, glimpsing three dark spots on the ground, dragging large black sheets behind them. I land half a mile or so away, behind a small white peak, my feet crunching on the fresh snow before I collapse in a heap. The parachute comes to rest with a flutter behind me, and suddenly, the world seems silent. The sky is a pale, cloudy blue, but other than it, I've never seen so much white in all my life.
I can sense the others on the far side of the mountain, and I drag my parachute behind me as I trek to the top, slipping once or twice on the soft, powdery snow.
'You made it!' Jasmina grins as she spies me at the top of the small peak. Her parachute is lying miserably a few feet away, and she's peering up above me to the sky beyond. I follow her line of sight and spot two tiny blobs catapulting towards the Earth.
'They jumped.' I smile, feeling strangely proud of myself, though my handling of this experience was mediocre at best. As we wait for the other Rebels to land – most of them a few miles away from our meeting point – I take the opportunity to climb the next peak, significantly taller than the first and offering a far better view of our surroundings. If I took a large mirror and placed it in the snow, the view would look no different. The only break in the monotonous scenery comes ten or so miles away, when the mountains begin to transform from babies to fully grown adults. But despite the monotony, I've never seen something so beautiful in all my days. I didn't even know places such as this existed; parts of the world untouched by man.
'Enjoying the view?' Vlad's crunching footsteps behind me alert me to his presence before his voice does.
'It's magnificent.' I breathe, sucking in icy cold air that feels fresh in my lungs. For some reason, I feel the need to whisper, as though merely raising my voice an octave or two could cause this unearthly place to come crashing down around us.
'It's cold.' Vlad states bluntly, and I glance at him sideways. His olive-coloured skin does look out of place against the pure white snow.
'Where are you from?' I frown, suddenly feeling the burning desire to know.
'The country you know as Turkey.' He replies, not looking at me.
'Ah,' I nod. 'A sight warmer than here.'
'I spent a great deal of time here when I was younger. I was a Servus, remember?' He turns away from me, heading back down the mountains, and I realise that Vlad isn't glad to be back here.
It doesn't take long for the other Rebels to land, and all of them make it to the meeting point without losing their way. We leave our parachutes behind as we start West, over the small mountains, our shoes scraping on the rock beneath the snow. The Rebels talk as they walk, and Asil naturally gravitates towards Jasmina and I.
'Good to be back.' He breathes slowly, thumping his chest with his fists. The sound of the cases' wheels dragging along the snow seems out of place.
'Really?' I frown, scaling the peak of a slightly taller mountain. The rock is hard beneath my feet, and sharp edges poke through the rubber soles.
'No.' He smiles, but I notice the pain hidden behind his eyes.
'How far are we going to have to walk this time?' Jasmina sighs, kicking the snow with her foot. 'Is there some sort of law which states that Vlad must only tell us the bare minimum?'
'Not far. There's a lake just across there,' Asil points ahead to a cluster of medium-sized mountains. 'We'll meet up with the others. Then we run.'
'How far?' Jasmina presses.
'About two hundred miles.' Asil smiles, ignoring Jasmina's exaggerated grimace.
'Might as well lose my shoes now, then.' She tuts, lifting up her foot to reveal her sole which is already partly shredded.
'There's a reason these mountains are mostly uninhabited.' Asil grins, speeding ahead to catch up with Vlad.
As we near the lake, over the tops of the snowy peaks, the mountains beyond become green and dry. Tall trees cluster over the hills, and the earth turns brown and dusty. At a clearing, the lake below becomes visible; inky black and transparent. Clustered around its edge are swarms of bodies, some seated, some standing. Their voices carry across the wind like the buzzing of bees, and they turn as they sense us, smiling broadly. Vanessa is easily visible with her shock of blonde hair and she greets Vlad with an awkward hug, clearly embarrassed about her rare display of affection before we left the Institute. 'Any problems?' Vlad's voice is low and I strain to hear it as Stacey throws herself into my arms.
'No.' Vanessa shakes her head, but despite the happy news that no one has been apprehended, she appears uneasy; the smooth white skin of her forehead wrinkling into thin worry lines.
'Man, that sky dive was amazing!' Stacey gushes, throwing an arm around my shoulder. 'I've never done that before. It was such a rush! Have you ever done it before?'
'Uh uh.' I shake my head slightly, distracted by the questioning frown Vlad gives Vanessa, and the awkward foot shuffle she performs at the sight of it.
'So what's the problem?' Vlad's voice rumbles.
'It's just – ' Vanessa chews her bottom lip nervously. 'Everything went so smoothly – '
'Well, that's good isn't it?'
'Yes,' She concedes. 'But it was almost too smooth.'
'Too smooth?' Vlad snorts.
'We didn't encounter a single Law Officer,' Vanessa explains. 'Not one. I've spoken to the group leaders and they say the same thing. Don't you think that's odd?'
'No, I think it's great,' Vlad replies firmly. 'You're being paranoid, Vanessa. Alec's information is solid. Everything's going exactly to plan.' He moves off without waiting for a reply, signalling the end of the conversation. I watch as Vanessa stands nodding, almost as if she's trying to convince herself that Vlad's right. Before I have time to form my own opinion, our leader's voice echoes through the wide valley.
'We've made it this far, and you have all been fantastic. You've followed orders and proven yourselves, but we're not at the end yet. The Confine is two hundred miles from this spot, and even with our speed it will take almost two hours to reach it. At some point during our journey, the Confine guards will sense us coming, they will be prepared – but so are we,' The crowd bob their heads emphatically at Vlad's words. 'This may be the last chance I get to address you all before we charge in, so let me take this opportunity to remind you all why we're here – lest you forget.
Caruso Bejarano and Sirus Bathory's reigns have been filled with nothing but corruption. They've invented their own laws, their own rules, and it is their right to do so. What is not their right, however, is to take away ours.
We have no voice, no choice and no part in the way our world is governed, and this tradition of having one sole leader, chosen by the previous, who holds all the power is outdated and ineffective. One leader who can throw us into the Confine on false charges to spend an eternity. One leader who sanctions atrocities – such as using human lives in first years' training – even though he's overruled. One leader who imprisons anyone who dares to speak or act against him. One sadistic, sociopathic leader who uses torture as a method of punishment and who cares for no one save himself and his charge.
For seven hundred years the two most unethical Immortals to ever walk the planet have ruled over us, and we have cowered in their wake. But today we will change that, not just for ourselves, not just for the wrongly accused lying in the Confine, but for all Immortals. For the first year who misses their family so much they attempt to reach out back home. For the wife whose husband speaks ill of Sirus Bathory to someone he thought he could trust. For the Institute professors who dare to raise objections against their government's policies. For Lorna Gray, whose mother lies in the Confine. For Kristoph Hubec, whose best friend lies in the Confine. Even for Sirus' son, Malachy Beighley, whose lover was thrown into the Confine on a false charge by none other than Sirus himself,' I wince at the word lover but Vlad doesn't even glance my way. The comment was deliberate, spiting me for 'siding' with Patrick.
'This won't be easy – ' Vlad
's voice filters back in. 'But I have every faith in you. You are trained, you know the plan and you know what we're fighting for. Follow your orders, and we can't fail.'
Once Vlad's speech comes to an end, we separate into our groups, headed by our leaders. Vanessa's group leads the way and we follow second, picking up the pace as we thunder over dry, dusty mountains. There isn't much in the way of conversation; we're all too busy running and concentrating on the enormous task ahead. Asil stays on my right, carrying the case in one hand, Jasmina on my left, and as the greenery and dark rocks give way to more white snow, I focus completely on the mission, on freeing the prisoners, and try not to seek out Patrick's dark hair hidden in the horde.
It's hard to run on the rocky terrain and scaling or climbing the mountains takes time, but finally they give way to long, icy planes stretching on into a thin white mist. Eight hundred or so pairs of feet thunder across the ice, diving into the wet spray of mist, going temporarily blind. In the midst of the masses, I barge into a Rebel in front, stood stock still at the clearing, staring straight ahead. I follow his line of sight and suck in a deep, moist breath.
Before us are two mountains standing almost side by side, one slightly taller than the other but both of dizzying height. I can't see their summits, hidden by a thin layer of cloud, but they're so large it makes me woozy. Other than a spattering of dark rock matter here and there, they are pristine white with sharp, jagged edges and wide, round bases. I peer across the sea of moving bodies, noting that the line of our large group is tapering off to the left, towards the furthest mountain.
'Better get a move on,' Asil's voice is smooth and confident in my ear – he's seen all this before. He studies my expression, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. 'Impressive isn't it?' He stares up at the mountains before us. 'That's the Confine,' He points to the furthest away, the one the group is heading for. 'And that's Mount Kamen. Home of the Auctoritas,' He points to the other, his eyes distant and clouded. For a moment, he's still, and I barely notice the flow of Immortals bending around us like a rock in a stream. 'Looking at it now,' He speaks quietly, nodding towards the mountains. 'It's hard to believe such a beautiful scene houses such atrocities, isn't it?'
'Are you talking about the Confine or the Auctoritas?' I ask shakily. Asil smiles and lets out a small bark of laughter.
'Both.'
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lucrezia.
'I don't want to talk about it, Lucrezia.' Malachy's voice is weary and small in the confines of his old room. Father has banished us here for an indeterminable length of time until he calls, and we're not to set foot outside the door in the meantime. Malachy is slumped on his bed, stretched across the never-used mattress, his arms covering his face. I stand awkwardly on the other side of the room, still trying to process the events of the past hour.
'But why did – '
'I don't want to talk about it, Lucrezia.' He repeats, but this time there is a finality – a coldness – to his tone. I breathe in deeply, trying to suppress the barrage of questions threatening to spill from me. He'll talk in his own time. He'll talk because he has nothing else left to do.
I cross the room and perch on the wooden bench beneath a torch, watching the firelight flicker over the bare stone walls. As a child, I decorated my room with rich tapestries and expensive artworks, but Malachy kept his bare from the moment he stepped into it.
'What now?' I ask quietly, my voice penetrating the overwhelming silence.
'What now?' He doesn't remove his arms from his face, but he lets out a loud, throaty scoff. 'Now we sit here and wait, like father told us to.'
'That's it?' I frown.
'That's it,' Malachy sighs, finally removing his arms and adopting a starfish position, staring up at the ceiling. Footsteps carry past outside the door, hushed voices. If I truly wanted to, I could strain to listen to what they're saying, but I find that – for once – I don't care. 'You know – ' Malachy says as the footfalls die away. 'Something strikes me as odd.'
'About father?' I ask, but Malachy shakes his head.
'No,' His brows are pulled into a slight frown, not of anger, more vaguely perplexed. 'About you.'
A jolt of panic hits me like a bolt of lightening. What has he figured out? 'About me?' I try to sound innocent, but my voice is unsteady.
'It didn't occur to me until just now,' He explains. 'You could have sided with Meredith Draper.'
'Sided with her?'
'Yes. You could have told father that she was right,' He nods, not looking at me. 'You could have agreed with her, added to her testimony. Instead you defended me. Why?'
'Why did I defend you?' I frown, the panic replaced by utter confusion. 'Why wouldn't I defend you?'
'If father believed Meredith to be right, if he believed I was having an affair with Eve, he would have handed you the throne there and then. Why didn't you just agree with her?'
A few moments of silence pass, and I stare at him as though he's someone I've never seen before. He finally breaks eye contact with the ceiling, turning over to face me, and something about my expression unsettles him. The confident – albeit world-weary – persona he seems to have adopted falters, and he gazes back at me, as baffled as I am. 'You – ' My voice is strangled, constricted by my tightening throat. 'You think it's what I want? To be Auctorita instead of you?'
'Is it not?' He asks, his eyes mistrustful. He appears genuinely perplexed, as though I'm something he thought he'd figured out, but hasn't.
'Of course not!' The anger seeping into my voice is as much a surprise to me as it is him. 'I've always wanted you to become Auctorita. It's your destiny. It's your duty. It's why I've tried to protect you – ' I fall silent suddenly, my hands shaking. So this is what Malachy thinks of me. I knew he'd become distant from me, started to dislike me, even, but never did I dream that he thought I would betray him.
'Protect me?' He raises a sceptical eyebrow.
'Yes,' I sigh, slumping down on the bench, my anger disappearing as quickly as it came. 'Everything I've done – ' I stare at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. 'I've done in order to protect you. Even when it might have seemed like I was making things difficult. I was only – '
'You've protected me?'
I blanch, glancing up at him. 'Yes!' I insist. He's looking at me as though I'm something poisonous. Perhaps it's time he learned the truth. Perhaps it's time he knew the lengths I've gone to in order to keep him safe. 'I knew about you and Ryder,' I blurt out quickly, as though the speed of my delivery will somehow make it easier to digest. 'I knew you had... feelings for each other. When she escaped,' I glance away. 'I knew she'd told you what she planned to do.'
'You knew?' His gasp of breath echoes off the stone walls. I nod silently, my gaze still on the floor. 'You knew but you didn't tell? Why?' His tone is demanding, disbelieving, and for some reason, I feel like the guilty one, even though it wasn't me who conspired with an escapee.
'I thought – ' I hesitate. This is the worst part; my reason for not raising the alarm about Ryder's escape, because it involves telling Malachy that I willingly sought to hurt him. My explanation comes out in a rush of words, tumbling over one another as though my mouth can't quite keep up. 'Malachy, Ryder was no good for you. You heard what father said; your mate should be someone fit to reign with you, someone who would add to your name, not tarnish it! People like her don't understand people like you. It would never have worked. I thought – ' I swallow deeply. 'I thought if she was allowed to escape, if I just let it happen, then she'd be captured and the problem would resolve itself. Father wouldn't have to intervene, neither would I, and we'd be spared the pain of having to hurt you in order to save you.'
'So you did it for yourself?!' He stands abruptly, rounding on me.
'No! I did it for you! It would have been much harder for you to be hurt by your family, rather than let the situation just play itself out. Ryder was stupid to escape, but she was lucky. I never thought for a moment she'd actuall
y get away – '
'When did you find out?' He cuts me off. His nostrils are flared and his dark pupils dilated; I'm used to Malachy being angry or irritated with me, but not often so directly.
'I overheard you talking,' I admit. 'Inside your room at the Institute. And then – ' I hesitate. 'I caught Ryder as she was leaving.'
'You – ' He shakes his head, as though he doesn't want to believe it. 'You let her go?'
The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell Page 35
