by L. L. Muir
She put her hands on the metal belt and slowly moved her fingers around, looking for the release, but felt nothing. There had to be one, though. What if someone needed to go to the bathroom?
Doors opened.
Three massive stone plates in rough triangle shapes jutted out from the mezzanine beneath their feet. There was one to her right, then two more on the far walls which she was able to see more clearly. All three were positioned evenly around the stadium and pointed at the center of the arena like three enormous stone teeth. Hundreds of Somerleds filed through the doors and into the space below them. With white-clad bodies pressed along the edges, she noticed a silver grid, like a fence, caging the Somerleds inside.
They all seemed pretty calm about their cage, though, like they’d been forced inside them often.
Once the cages were full, other doors opened along the back row of the stone seats below. Somerleds filed in wearing cleaner, nicer robes than the rest, but there weren’t a lot of them. Maybe a hundred in all. They spread out around the outer wall and took their places in three single lines that linked the triangles together, creating a ring of pure white with the equally white triangles just inside. The stage lay just outside that circle.
The cavern was full. Everyone in their place. And Skye realized she was probably sitting right where Gabriella wanted her, in the end.
Her eyes found the stage again, found Jamison again. He was sitting back against the wall, chatting with his guards. And Skye took heart, thinking he wouldn’t be sitting there so casually if he was going to be the sacrifice. Besides, Gabriella had promised she’d have time, and that Jamison wouldn’t be hurt.
She’d promised!
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jamison searched the rows of faces before him and for a second he thought they were all focused on him, staring him down. But when he looked at those to the right, he realized their attention was on a spot in the rock wall just beyond him. They were waiting.
And while they waited, he searched.
Skye wasn’t there.
He searched again, row by row, trying not to miss a face, and still couldn’t find her. So he figured wherever Gabriella was, she still had Skye with her. Somewhere inside one of those cages, though, had to be that Lucas double. Maybe if he could get to that one, he could find out what was really going on. But it looked like he was going to have to figure out how to break out of his cell and go back into Diamond territory to do that.
There was one thing he could fix before the meeting broke up, however. He could undo the damage he’d done—he could let the Hearts know that Skye was there, somewhere, and restore their hope.
The Somerleds standing at attention along the perimeter looked normal enough. None of them seemed psycho like the dark-haired one that hovered around Gabriella. Could he really be a Primary? And if so, was he reading his thoughts right that minute?
Pilot? What’s the matter? Not as much talent as Lanny?
Lanny seemed to be a sore subject, something to goad the man with, but if Pilot could hear Jamison’s thoughts, he wasn’t answering.
A familiar face caught his eye. One of the Spades looked just like Buchanan, the guy from Lanny’s ranch who had been friends with Jamison’s grandpa. Too bad he was just another duplicate. Apparently, the Somerleds didn’t see a need for individuality and used a limited number of molds for their containers.
The Clubs on the mezzanine looked pretty reasonable too, and Jamison wondered what Gabriella could have said to them to make them want to join her. But Skye would never fall for it. Not the Skye he knew.
As if thinking her name conjured her, his eyes found her. His heart jumped, then it sank. Skye was sitting among the Clubs. Among the brainwashed. Among Gabriella’s army!
He pushed his back against the polished wall behind him, got his shaking foot beneath him, and stood.
One guard put a hand on his shoulder. “Settle down. She's coming.”
The guy's attention wasn't on Jamison. He was looking beyond him, to the right of the stage. Jamison forced himself to look away from Skye and pay attention like everyone else.
They'd all been waiting for her.
Gabriella stepped smoothly from a doorway in the rock wall. She was back in her peacock outfit, but this time she wore an elaborate headpiece.
She really does want to look like a bird.
She walked past, glanced down at him with an elegant sneer, then moved on to perch on her branchy throne.
Pilot followed in her wake, past Jamison, and whispered something to the first guard. The guy turned to Jamison and threw a fist into his gut. His breath whooshed from his mouth and his stomach folded in half. His spine cracked like stiff knuckles and he collapsed onto his butt.
Pilot leaned over him. “A queen bird with a hell of a lot of loyal subjects, Mr. Shaw. Try to remember that.”
Jamison nodded, still gasping for breath, and the man moved on. When Jamison was able to breathe again, he kept his thoughts under lock and key.
Cold stone. Smooth stone. Bright lights.
Pilot glided to the edge of the polished surface. Thousands held their breath and the already silent amphitheater fell quieter still.
“Gabriella,” he announced with a roar, “has been betrayed.”
Jamison closed his eyes and prayed to God that whoever had betrayed her had done a damn fine job of it.
Again, Pilot waved to Jamison’s sparring partner and he got a fist across his face, knocking his head to the side so fast it made his neck burn.
“Got it,” Jamison hissed. “No praying aloud. Got it.”
If they intended to put him on that altar—the one he’d noticed inside the sunken circle at the center of the arena—he wasn’t going to be quiet about it. They wanted a show? He’d give them a show.
Pilot turned to glare at Jamison again, and then at his abuser. “Gag him, damn you.”
The abuser and the other guard exchanged grimaces, then the first man hurried away, ducking inside the door Pilot and Gabriella had come out of. Jamison kept his thoughts as clear as possible and waited for the show to start.
Pilot stepped closer to the edge of the stage and raised his hands to quiet a crowd that needed no quieting.
“Somerleds,” he said. “One among you has betrayed us all.”
The acoustics of the place were incredible. The man didn’t have to shout or use a microphone. With just a little projection his voice carried everywhere.
“Ruth! Come forth!”
There was a single gasp from the mezzanine. He hoped it came from Skye, that the girl wasn’t too far gone yet. But if it was the last thing he did, he’d get her straightened out, even if he had to kidnap her and hold her hostage in his grandfather’s treehouse again, until her brain was un-washed.
Jamison had expected Pilot to name him as the betrayer, not Ruth. And why would they want to punish someone who had tried to kill him? Didn’t that prove she was one of them? Or had there been truth in her ranting, that Jamison himself was the key to making this all fall apart? She’d seemed pretty convinced.
Until he understood what Gabriella had planned for him, he’d be foolish to rule anything out. And if Ruth was telling the truth, he just hoped a better alternative would show up so he didn’t have to go looking for that pit again…
Two Somerled traitors stepped away from the wall with Ruth between them. They led her with a light touch. She looked heartbroken, but she showed no resistance. Maybe she knew the punishment would be light.
Her escorts walked her to the lip of the sunken arena, then down a few steps and into the middle where they left her. She lifted her chin in defiance and faced Pilot, but her arms wrapped around her body in fear.
But that was messed up. Somerleds weren’t supposed to be afraid of anything.
Jamison’s abuser returned and quickly shoved some paper towels into his mouth before turning away to watch Pilot.
“Ruth Somerled,” Pilot said with disgust, “you have been found guilty o
f treason and shall be cast out. You will not be returning to the Father, but shall be cast out with Lucifer and his followers, as is written in the Agreement.”
But that wasn’t right! Jamison knew about the Agreement. And if Ruth was still a Somerled, she was incapable of real sin.
Suddenly the circle of Somerleds looked all too familiar. They weren’t standing concealed inside a crop circle, but the set up was the same. They were going to send her Home. She’d be reassigned as an angel somewhere new, or she’d be able to choose a mortal life. Didn’t these people know?
But the only reason he knew was because a Primary had explained it to him. Pilot had obviously never told these Somerleds the truth, and they were afraid. He could see it in their eyes. The Spades and Diamonds were all afraid they’d end up like Ruth—cast out.
Skye had explained, when she’d been one of them, that Somerleds had no reason to fear. But Skye had been afraid of more than a few things, so Somerleds were certainly capable of it. But she’d never feared Judgment.
So Pilot must have convinced these Somerleds they would be cast out if they betrayed Gabriella. That’s how they kept them with her. She’d lied about the Agreement.
Poor Ruth. She wasn’t equipped with tears, or he was sure she’d be sobbing. And how horrible for her, to believe she was about to be sent to Hell, literally. And all because she tried to help end this nightmare for everyone.
He had to get to her, to tell her the truth.
Pilot raised his arms again, his drama worthy of any Vegas stage. “My fellows, come forth!”
The white robed Spades started moving. Their procession created white snakes that progressed away from the outer wall and down the aisles, headed for the center arena. Eventually, they spread into a single circle and stood at the railing, looking dispassionately down on Ruth. Jamison knew exactly what they were going to do. And if they made that circle tight enough, he’d never be able to get to the poor, confused woman who had tried to kill him.
He pulled his foot beneath him and jumped up as he’d done before, only this time, he surged forward, his head lowered like a battering ram. He flew down the aisle. Somerleds stepped aside, confused. He shouldered two large ones out of his way and reached the edge of the arena. Because of the unevenness of the floor, instead of a few stairs on his side of the arena, there was a six foot drop from the railing in front of him. With his hands still secured behind him, he couldn’t climb fast, but he got over it, intent on getting to Ruth.
He landed with a grunt, but kept his feet, then spit out the paper towels now soaked in saliva. He shook his head to get the last of it out and moved toward a frightened Somerled woman who seemed glued to the center of the ring.
“Ruth! It’s not true. You won’t be cast out! You’ll go back to God! Trust me. They’ve been lying to you. They’ve been lying to all of you!” He shouted toward the ring closing around them. “The Agreement promises you this. Find a true Primary. They’ll tell you. You cannot sin. You cannot be accountable until after you choose mortality!”
“He’s not even a Somerled,” Gabriella shouted. “He was never a Somerled. How would he know of such things?”
“Begin!” Pilot shouted.
Jamison’s two guards stopped trying to get through the circle and backed away. The Spades cleared their throats and began humming, bringing their voices into sync. It was the soundtrack from Jamison’s nightmares, the same singing that had taken Skye away from him in the first place.
And here he was again, standing by while a frightened young woman rose into the air. But this time, he let her go. At least someone was getting out of Gabriella’s mountain nightmare.
“Stop!” Gabriella stood in the center of the stage with her arms spread. “I command you to cease your singing!”
And so they ceased.
Jamison looked up just in time to see Ruth as she dropped like a rock. With his hands still tied behind his back, all he could do was stand beneath her and try to cushion her fall. They both ended up on the dirt floor, but uninjured. She was a Somerled, after all. No bones to break.
Pilot stomped to Gabriella and spoke quietly, but it was obvious he wasn’t happy about her interrupting. Then she put her hands on her hips and gave him a quiet set-down while the entire stadium strained to hear.
Jamison snuck a glance up at the mezzanine to see what Skye’s reaction was to it all. Their eyes met. She was terrified while those around her seemed interested, but calm. She wasn’t brainwashed after all!
Her hand tapped the metal band around her waist and he realized she couldn’t get out. She was caught among the rats, but not one of them.
He gave her a wink and hoped it would lessen her panic. Her wide eyes relaxed and she sent him a quick smile. It was enough to give him hope again, to make him feel invincible again. And as soon as could, he’d get his arms around her, and they were never going to be separated again.
Finally, Pilot and Gabriella stepped apart and she moved forward to claim the stage. The spotlights hit her sparkly dress and reflected painful shards of light, making her hard to look at. It reminded Jamison of the chandelier in Lanny’s office that had left him with a headache.
“We are going to confer about how to deal with this young man’s lies. Rest easy, my Somerleds. I will find the truth. And until then, we shall send Ruth along with the Hearts. The rest of you will—”
“No!” Ruth shouted. “No. I want to go.” She turned in a circle and pled with the others in white. “Please. Send me. I want to go Home to Father. I believe him.” She pointed to Jamison. “I believe what he says and I want to go. Please!”
Those standing in the circle glanced between Pilot, Gabriella, and finally Ruth. They shook their heads before looking away.
“Please!” she begged. “I want to go.”
Someone started humming. Jamison turned in a circle to figure out which direction it was coming from. But no matter where he turned, the humming was there.
The sound opened up suddenly. Clear voices rose in a chilling chorus and everyone turned to look at the caged Somerleds. Standing in their triangular sections, spread evenly around the massive hall, they opened their mouths and sang.
The ceiling suddenly gave out a groan and came apart. Large sections of it moved and slid under each other until a hexagon of night sky was exposed directly over the arena.
Ruth started lifting off the ground.
And she wasn’t the only one.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Jamison stood in shock as the circle of Spades, Gabriella’s angels, all rose together—a solid wheel of white with Ruth in the center. They grasped each other to keep their balance, but there was nothing they could do. The Diamonds showed no signs of stopping.
“Cease!” Pilot bellowed, but even with the great acoustics, his voice could barely be heard. In frustration, he lunged forward, waving his arms, but then his sleeves started to rise. He jumped back as if he’d been burned.
Of course! He’s a Somerled too!
Jamison shook off the surprise and crept to the edge of the arena, trying not to draw attention. On the high side, next to the altar, there was a door in the wall and he moved toward it. His mortal guards stood just behind the rail watching the rising Somerleds rise, not him. He didn’t have much time. The white ring was already high enough—
There was a massive explosion of light that blinded him and stung his eyes. Seeing one angel disintegrate had been painful enough, he should have expected this, should have squeezed his eyes shut—if only his hands weren’t bound he could have covered his head. But it was too late.
Hoping his guards were equally blind, he stumbled forward, estimating the direction of the altar. When he bumped into it, he guessed the direction to the door beyond and headed for it. He found the wall, then a crease in it.
The panel beneath his shoulder swung away from him. He was grabbed and pulled inside. The darkness before him deepened. He heard the door snap shut behind him, and he couldn’t think of anything b
etter to do than to fight against the hand clutching the front of his shirt.
“Easy, Jamison,” a man growled low. “It’s me.”
He stopped struggling. He knew that voice. He’d listened to it for hours, soothing him while he bawled his eyes out—the morning after Skye’s temporary body had disintegrated over his head.
“Buchanan!”
~ ~ ~
A few moments earlier…
The circle of Somerleds floated up into the air with Ruth at the center. She smiled at the night sky above their heads. The others were struggling and trying to hold onto each other. Skye couldn’t figure out what the acrobatics had to do with Jamison’s crazy speech, but at least Ruth looked relieved. Maybe, if she played her part well enough, they wouldn’t punish her.
When they were about fifteen feet off the ground, Skye looked for wires like they used at Cirque du Soleil performances, but she couldn’t see any. All the bright lights should have reflected off whatever lines were pulling those Somerleds into the air, but she saw nothing. And in their bright white robes, they really did look like angels. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Gabriella and her angel stories were true.
She stole a glance at the faces around her, to see if they were enjoying the entertainment or if they were as worried as she was that once the acrobatics were over, they’d pull out the altar and strap someone to it. But she couldn’t tell. Most looked stunned.
Skye! A voice came into her head, nice and clear. Not a subtle suggestion, but a real voice bouncing around the inside of her skull. Skye, you must not react. No matter what, you must not react. And you must close your eyes. Now!
Her eyes snapped shut.
The singing suddenly grew wildly loud, then stopped. There was an odd pop, like she’d burst a bubble of gum inside her mouth. But with that pop came a brilliant burst of light she could feel against her face, like rushing wind sweeping past her and arcing toward the hole in the ceiling. On instinct, her arm covered her face, and when she peeked over her elbow, the ring of Somerleds, and Ruth, were gone!
