He subtly touches the back of his wrist and looks at me, questioning.
I nod, but I’m unsure how to tell him the truth without ratting on Cole.
Gray glances at Devon before addressing the crowd. “The Blight is scheduled for removal before sunset. With Global Council arriving soon, we plan on executing an effective strike in two hours, ensuring plenty of daylight.”
“Strike?” I whisper to Devon.
“Stay quiet and listen.”
“Sage’s attacks have increased since we acquired the Blight, hitting all of our locations, weakening our surrounding army. We believe he is planning an ambush attack similar to the one in the Renaissance when the Well was in transfer. He knows we won’t have enough time to assemble the troops needed for war. He’ll be ready, knowing we can’t be. If history is any indication, he’ll surround the Circuit Wall, keeping us locked inside with limited supplies until we’re forced to open the gate. Except this time we plan on launching an offensive attack. We’ve got one chance to get it right. And that’s it. Lance will hand out additional weapons and shields to protect from the blast.” An older Blade with a buzz cut and sword tattoos running the length of his arms steps beside Gray.
“Blast?” Harper gasps from behind me. Her shock echoes through the room. I step aside to let her and Lina through.
Gray frowns at her.
Devon comes to her side and whispers in her ear. Her face blanches.
“We believe we have a way to destroy Sage,” Gray says.
“What?” The word falls out before I can stop it.
Cole enters from the courtyard as Pop grunts with disapproval and pushes himself taller in his chair. I’m not sure if Pop’s grunt was aimed at my outburst, Gray’s comment, or Cole’s late arrival, but what does it matter? There’s a way to destroy Sage? I’m not sure how Gray came across it. Maybe there was a solution in the notes Foster took while I was reading the paintings. Or maybe the answer is in my latest vision that I haven’t seen drawn out.
Gray’s arrogant face hardens. “We believe we can lure Sage to the Garden—”
“Whoa. You want to do what?” Cole halts midstride. “Are you insane?”
Gray ignores Cole’s interruption. He pins his callous stare on me. I force myself not to squirm as all eyes follow. “We bait him. Get him to use his powers and deflect the hit to the Circuit Wall.”
“Powers, like the red lightning from my visions?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady despite the gawking expressions and Gray’s obvious hatred.
“Hold up, amigo,” Cole comes to my side, shifting the attention away from me. “Do you even know what that power does?”
“We know that you do.” Gray’s tight jaw grinds his words. “So unless you’re withholding information—”
“I told you everything I know. I even gave you a detailed layout of his place, and how to get in and out undetected. But having him use his power?” Cole shakes his head. “It’s a bad idea, man.”
“What does it do?” I ask Cole, quietly. “The red lightning appears as a flash in my visions, but I never see the effects.”
“And it’s better if we keep it that way,” Gray snaps.
Lieutenant Foster steps away from his desk. “Partial knowledge will most certainly result in defeat. I think it best for Mr. Tripton to inform the entire team of the implications of Sage’s power.” He motions to Cole. “Proceed.”
Gray keeps his scowling mouth shut as Cole straightens and pushes his hat back. “Sage’s power comes right from his fingertips. It’s a red current. Looks like lightning. He uses it to siphon Dissenters’ powers and turn them into Legions. He also uses it to blast through all kinds of walls, gates—anywhere he wants to gain access. When he wants, the bolt can vaporize anything into black cinder. I even saw him use it on a girl . . .”
Cole’s voice drops. “I thought Sage was going to siphon her powers the way he does with the Awakened when they die. She wasn’t a Dissenter, so he couldn’t turn her into a Legion. She was a Common who wouldn’t do what he wanted. He struck her. Kept the bolt on her until she was nothing but a pile of ash. When he was done, the suck-faced Legions rolled around in her remains like rabid dogs rolling on a carcass.”
The room goes quiet.
Cole’s voice firms. “All I know is that getting Sage to come anywhere near the Garden is a horrible idea. Our tiny weapons won’t stand a chance against him.”
“But a blast from the Circuit Wall will.” Gray is unmoved. No surprise. “That’s why we’re turning it into a weapon,” he says. “Use Sage’s own power against himself. We’ll get him to strike, deflecting the hit to the Circuit Wall with the shields. The hit will set off a blast, and if he’s close enough, it will destroy him and his army.”
“Won’t he expect that?” Maddox asks. “What if we tried a different tactic? Surprise him. Throw him off instead. I could get artists to—”
“Artists won’t help the fight,” Gray barks. “And we know Sage won’t strike the Circuit Wall directly. But I can get him to strike at me. The team of Blades will cover me, deflecting the hit.”
Why is Gray so sure Sage will strike him? Regardless, I side with Maddox. Gray’s slight change to an old tactic doesn’t seem drastic enough to throw Sage off. Even Pop shifts in his seat, uneasy.
“Have we enough weaponry to ensure everyone’s safety?” Foster asks.
“Lance will distribute what we have. We’ve counted enough for Blades and Caretakers. Everyone else stays inside the Garden. We anticipate a few losses, but nothing to the degree of recent attacks.” There isn’t a hint of cockiness in his voice. He actually sounds . . . not like a jerk. I’m shocked.
“Won’t they get hurt by the blast?” Harper asks Devon, but everyone hears.
“The shields come from the same guild as the Paradise Steel. That metal will protect them as long as they follow Gray’s command,” Devon assures her, and the rest of the room, as grave silence settles over each face.
“Sage is gonna know something’s up as soon as he sees the shields,” Cole says. “It’ll be a matter of seconds before he figures out your plan.”
“That’s inconsequential.” Gray stares him down. “He’ll strike anyway.”
Cole lifts an eyebrow. “How are you so sure?”
Gray looks at me. “We’ll use her as bait.”
Cole points in my direction with wide-eyed shock. “You want to use her to get Sage to strike the Wall? Gray, are you freakin’ high?”
“She’s out before sunset anyway—”
“No!” Maddox starts in on Gray, but Lance intercepts him.
“Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?” Cole descends on Gray, but Devon sprints over in time to plant a firm hand on his chest, backing him away.
“It’s our best chance.” Devon’s tone is calm. “If she agrees, we’ll be sure she’s protected.”
Pop clears his throat. “Protected from who?”
“From Sage,” Devon answers. “She’ll be shielded along with Gray.”
Pop leans forward. “What I’m sayin’ is that once she’s outside that Wall, what happens to her? I reckon she ain’t just walkin’ out ’n’ standing there, is she?”
Gray’s icy stare flickers in my direction. “The Blades will be in attack positions as I take her outside the gate. I’ll stage an altercation with the Blight, and as soon as we know Sage is near, I’ll convincingly attempt her execution. But as long as she’s compliant and the Steel senses her Current, no harm will come to her.”
We both know that’s a lie. Gray’s been searching for a way to kill me ever since I’ve set foot in the Garden. He’s even tested the knife to be sure it would cut me. There’s no way I’ll walk out of this plan alive. But it’s also clear no place is secure outside these borders. Not for me, or anyone else. Not if Sage is alive. I glance at the tense faces peppering the room. If this is the only chance . . .
Cole frowns. “Gray, you know your Steel—”
“I’ll do
it.” I step forward with a confidence that isn’t my own. “If Gray is putting himself, and others, on the line because there’s a chance the plan will work, then I have to.” I’m certain I’ll die in the process, but if killing me will destroy that monster so no one else has to die, then it’s worth it.
“Cera, don’t!” Maddox grapples with Lance and another Blade who holds him back. “Gray, we had a deal.” His voice is fueled with anger. “If you do anything to her, I swear I’ll—”
“Get him out,” Gray commands.
It takes three Blades to drag Maddox to the door. He’s shouting, wrestling, and struggling to break free to reach me. “Cera, please don’t,” he begs, trying to look at me. “We’ll find a—”
The door slams shut.
Part of me desperately wants to fight to stay alive and build a world with Maddox—the naïve part, the one that believes I can run the way Mom and I have done all these years. But the darker side knows the truth. Life is no longer a viable option. Once I turn seventeen, Sage will sense my Dissenting power, and no one around me will be safe because he’ll hunt me down forever. Yet life wars inside me, screaming for me to run.
But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that running only leads to greater destruction.
“I’ll do whatever you ask,” I say. “But in return, please keep my mother safe. Heal her. Absolve her of any wrongdoing.”
I ready myself with a plea about how they wouldn’t have this chance if Mom hadn’t kept me alive, but Gray surprisingly agrees. “You can call her before we leave.”
“Very well.” Lieutenant Foster shifts. Maybe he’s uneasy, or maybe it’s something else entirely, I can’t tell. But for the first time, his expression is clear: worry creases his forehead.
Pop wrings his hands together and sighs deeply.
“You are all dismissed,” Foster says. “Everyone, prepare for assignments in the War Room.”
“Does nothing I say about Sage matter?” Cole marches over to Foster as the crowd disperses. “If he sees anyone put a knife to her throat—I’m telling you, I know the guy. There’s got to be another way.”
“This is the only way,” Gray cuts in.
“What if it’s not? Let’s rethink this. What if it’s a combination of power that does the trick? Something about her Blight powers and”—Cole glances at Gray’s knife tucked in his belt—“the strength of your Steel. She can turn the weapon against—”
“Nobody touches my knife.” Gray’s eyes blaze. “That’s the plan, Tripton. We lost twelve Guardians and seven Blades in yesterday’s attack. Sage isn’t going to stop until he gets what he wants. I won’t lose any more lives.” His heavy footsteps pound through the suffocating air as he walks out of the room.
Pop works his way to the edge of the chair, frowning. I don’t want Pop disappointed in me. Can’t he see I’m finally doing something right?
I help him stand. “Pop. Spring will rise.” I’m still not sure what that means, but I know it means something to Pop. I want him to know I’m trying to do the right thing. Devon and Harper take over walking him to the door.
“That so?” Pop rests his hand on his cane, but won’t face me. “Then be warned. Spring brings the fiercest storms.”
What does that mean?
“Lina, prepare accordingly,” Lieutenant Foster tells her. “We need all available Healers on site, ready to tend our wounded.”
“Si.” Her shoulders slump. There’s a heavy weight clouding every face. This decision to attack changes their defensive position and brings troubling uncertainty. For some reason, I feel somewhat responsible.
As the space clears, Lieutenant Foster invites me to his desk. “Miss Marlowe. We have a few matters to discuss in preparation.”
Cole leaps around the couch. “This is a bad idea, Lieutenant. You know it is—”
“Mr. Tripton. You are excused.”
“But—”
“You are to spend the next hour assisting the other Blades.”
Cole plants his feet. “I’m staying here.”
“Mr. Tripton, as of this moment, you are to share your knowledge of enemy practices with the Blades. Are we clear?”
Cole shoots Foster a defiant glare and then shoves his hat low on his head. Without saying another word, he storms out, slamming the door behind him. The small table quivers, shaking the chessmen, but none fall.
Everyone’s gone. I’m left with Foster who takes an even breath. “Now, Miss Marlowe, I believe we have a vision to discuss.”
Foster’s desk is wiped clean except for the Atlas paperweight and silver frame. My throat swells as I sit on the edge of the chair and watch him spread the visual carnage of the last ten years of my visions in perfect rows.
I squirm, feeling uneasy. “Does my mom know you have these?”
“They were retrieved prior to the attack.” Foster lowers himself into the chair behind the desk. There is a strange melancholy in his eyes that I can’t place. Disappointment? Regret? “It is imperative that you review your previous visions and determine if there is anything that may guide or warn us.”
I immediately spot the sketch of the Cormorant and the small mouse I know to be Jess. The unwanted memory of smashing glass and her tiny scream rushes back, drowning out clanging metal sounds that now come from the living room. She bled out on the street, her body limp and cold . . . I vowed never to let that happen again. I wipe my eyes dry with my sleeve.
Foster clears his throat and straightens the edge of the paper. “I know this may be difficult, but we have only a few hours. We shall review the images in order. I believe there is a cohesive reasoning in the way the visions were granted to you. Start at the beginning. Push aside the emotion. Focus the same way you have been reviewing the classical works.”
Push aside emotion? Does he have any idea what he’s asking of me? There isn’t a single piece of classical artwork that holds as much blood as these ten sheets of paper.
I twist my hands in my lap. Rushed strokes and unsteady marks smear where Mom’s pencil barely kissed the paper. For some reason, I can’t shake my uneasiness.
Foster must see me struggling because his voice turns quiet. “I was certain an alternative solution would arise from your research and quell the admiral’s impatience. Perhaps I was too hopeful.” His defeated, apologetic eyes meet mine. “What you are being asked to do, participating in this perilous attack, it comes at a great cost.”
I straighten the sketch of Jess. “I know. Gray will kill me once I’m outside the Garden. That’s always been his plan.”
“We will take every precaution to ensure that is not the case.” Foster believes what he says, although I know it’s not possible. He must know it too because he shifts, uncomfortable. “But there is something more you should—”
“Lieutenant,” an urgent voice interrupts from the door. It’s Grumpy, the Blade who walked me here this morning. “A message from the admiral, sir.”
Through the open door, I spot Cole lingering near the hall, pretending to inspect an intricate shield, but when he glances my way, I know he’s there listening.
“Please decode what you can until my return.” Foster excuses himself before making a hasty exit with Grumpy.
Cole is in the room as soon as they leave. “Listen, Blighty.” His voice is a rough whisper. “They won’t let me fight. If this is gonna go down the way Gray wants it to, then you need to know how to slip out of his grip if he really tries to . . .”
“Kill me.”
Cole frowns. Ringing metal echoes from the War Room. “I can’t pull you out now with everyone watching. I’ll arrange it after I go back to my room and get my Steel. If I can swing it, I’ll get you one too.”
My heart leaps. “Seriously?”
“But you’ve got to keep it hidden. I’ll show you how.”
I jump up and throw my arms around his neck with an impulsive hug. “Thank you.”
When I let go, he adjusts his hat. “Sure.” He suppresses a smile. “Whatever.
”
In a blink, he’s blended in with the Blades swarming across the hall. I walk over and close the door to block out the noise, but a draft that smells of the arbor pushes the courtyard door open. Voices carry from outside. I peer out.
“The admiral will arrive within the hour.” Lance crosses his tattooed arms. He’s standing near the arbor talking to . . . Foster.
“Has the rescue been approved?” the lieutenant asks.
“Denied,” Lance says. “The admiral disapproves of sending troops into Sage’s compound, stating all resources should be available for the strike.”
“If that be so, then I cannot, in good conscience, allow Miss Marlowe to execute this plan without knowing the full extent of this situation.”
Situation? I hide beside the door and strain to listen over the rustling trees as Foster continues. “Sage is sure to inform her of her mother’s capture once she is removed from the Estate. Withholding this information may turn her against the Alliance, as he desires. She has proven faithful in her task. It is unconscionable for us to allow Miss Marlowe to proceed without knowing the sacrifice.”
My blood turns to ice. Capture? But they said—
“The admiral forbids the Blight’s knowledge of it,” Gray’s smug voice cuts in. “Reports from the attack on Hesperian say the creatures were searching for the sketches we retrieved. When the renderings couldn’t be found, the Legions took Delia Marlowe. The admiral believes Sage will siphon the visions himself but doesn’t want the Blight to know. It might interfere with the plan.”
Sage has my mother. Gray looked me straight in the eyes and lied. My heart feels like he’s flung a hundred daggers into my chest. That’s why he agreed to my request so quickly. Even suggested I call her to calm me down, knowing I wouldn’t get through. I clutch a nearby bookcase to support my trembling legs.
“The admiral believes this abduction is the luring shown in her vision. A warning,” Gray adds. “Under no circumstances is she to know.”
“Withholding information of this nature is negligent for an attack of this magnitude. Miss Marlowe is a young girl. Her mother has been captured. She has a right to know. I will speak to the admiral.” Foster’s clipped tone is the last thing I hear.
Realms of Light (The Colliding Line Book 2) Page 12
