My pulse explodes, battering my eardrums, drowning everything out. The Alliance couldn’t protect my mother. Sage will torture her to extract my visions. She’ll die. Sage will be right by her side when she does. He’ll strike her with that current, sucking all her strength. She’ll be abandoned, helpless, and alone. Or worse. He’ll siphon her power, taking the last bit of her for himself. I shift away from the door, unable to breathe.
I can’t let that happen.
I won’t.
But how can I save her?
Gray’s grinding footsteps approach the library. “Where is she now?”
“Reviewing sketches,” comes Foster’s reply.
“The admiral wants a close watch on her.”
Violent heat charges my blood. I pace the worn carpet near Foster’s desk. What do I do? Stay here and help the Alliance, knowing I’ll die? Knowing Sage has my mother? Knowing what he’ll do to her?
Light flickers in the grass outside the window as if taunting me to choose. My mother? Or the Alliance?
As soon as the door cracks open, I make my choice. I jump out the bay window.
And I run.
Hard. Fast.
Golden light flickers in the grass as I fly around the house, over the back lawn. My feet know exactly where I’m headed. I’ll cut through the hedge, the way Cole showed me, and follow the path through the woods. I know how to use the lanterns and open the gate. I want to find Maddox and tell him what I’m about to do, but I don’t have the time.
I’ll find a way to get to Mom. Maybe I can’t save her, but at least I can say goodbye. I skid around the corner and duck into the wisteria grove. The hedge beckons me from the other side. I pick up speed. My breath is labored, hard—I collide right into Cole as he steps out of his room.
“Whoa. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“My mother. Sage.” I can’t choke out the words. Air strangles my throat. “Gray lied.” Tears flow freely now. I try to wipe them back, but it does no good. “I have to see her.” My words are fueled by passion that has no weight. No logic or plan.
Cole takes hold of my shoulders and shakes me lightly. “Were you trying to run through that gate with your Cord? Your freakin’ arm will blow off!”
I lift my wrist. “Take it off.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll crawl out of here with one arm!” I push him away. “I can’t let Sage siphon her powers to get to my visions. It will kill her!” I dash to the hedge, pushing the tangled branches aside. I step through and trip over the vines.
Cole catches me as I fall. “Come here.” He takes me by the wrist, leading me into my room. He shuts the door and points a finger at me, so close that if I speak the tip of his finger will brush my lips. “Stop and think. If you leave, you’re throwing away any chance the Alliance has to destroy Sage. You’ll never be free. Sage will find you.”
I step back. “What can Sage do to me? If he needs me in order to gain access to the Well, he won’t kill me. You and I both know Gray won’t let me live. If I stay and help the Alliance, rescuing my mother won’t even be a possibility because I’ll be dead. And so will she. Sage will be there when she dies, taking the last bit of her for himself. She’ll be alone. Abandoned. And I’ll never get the chance to tell her I love her.” My pent-up remorse overflows. “That I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused her over the years. That I forgive her and understand why she hid me.”
My lips tremble. “Dad abandoned us when I was seven. I won’t abandon her too.” Tears streak down my face. “She’s the only family I have. If I let her die, I’ll be no different from my father.” I grip his shirt. “Cole, please help me. Tell me how to get into his place. Where Sage will be keeping her. I know I can’t do this alone.”
Cole swallows. “Did you ask surfer boy and he said no?”
I quickly release him. “Maddox has nothing to do with this. You’re the one with a knife. You’re the one who knows Sage better than anyone else. And I’m not asking you to come, just to help.”
Cole’s expression turns hard. “It’s a trap.”
“Even if it is, what choice do I have? All my life I’ve played in the shadows. I’ve hidden, stayed out of trouble, and lived unseen, blending in, trying to be normal. Even here I’ve been trying to fit in. But I’m not like everyone else. I’m not an Awakened. I’m not a Dissenter. I’m a Blight, and my mother is dying in Sage’s hands.” I beat his chest. “Nothing is more important to me than her.” He takes each hit, holding me until my fight wanes. “If I can’t save her or at least say good bye, then what good am I?”
“Listen, Blighty.” His voice is thick. He says the nickname with true affection, no mocking now. He rubs his hand over his mouth. Conflict blazes behind his eyes. “What you’re asking of me . . . I can’t.”
My stomach turns hollow. Of course he can’t. Helping me will make him a traitor or worse—a Dissenter. I move away. “I wasn’t thinking about what this would mean for you. I shouldn’t have asked. But . . .” I’m unsure of what this next request might cost him, but I’ll ask anyway. “Can you let me use your knife so I can take off the Cord, and don’t tell anyone I’ve left—at least until I’m well outside the gate? I know it ruins Gray’s plans, but at least I’ll be outside the Garden. I’ll no longer be a threat to the Well.”
“There has to be another way.”
“Obviously, there isn’t.”
He spins me around, staring with those emerald eyes, searching, almost desperate. “Tell me the truth about you and surfer boy.”
My face flushes. “Where did that come from? We’re not—he’s only. My interceptor.” I don’t know what Cole is up to, but this has nothing to do with saving my mother.
“You’re a liar,” he says.
“You’re the one who doesn’t tell the truth.”
“I may be a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”
“We’ve been through a lot together. That’s all.”
“That’s not all.” He’s inches from me. “I’m not blind to the way he never takes his eyes off you, always watching how you tuck that one loose strand behind your ear, or the way you nervously twist your ring finger when you’re around him, or how he glances at your lips when he thinks no one’s looking. Friends don’t look at each other like that. And they certainly don’t sleep outside your door at night.”
Maddox does all that?
“Talking about Maddox has nothing to do with saving my mother. And I’m running out of time.”
He takes my wrist. My pulse is frantic under his thumb. “Until you acknowledge the truth, you’ll be blind to whatever is standing right in front of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His accusations are messing with my head. He’s stalling me. He must be.
“You know exactly what it means.” Cole’s eyes blaze with anger, hurt, or maybe it’s something else entirely.
“No, Cole, I don’t. So why don’t you enlight—” He presses his lips to mine with a heated kiss, so fierce and deep, I’m broken.
He releases my hand and steps away. Fluttering heat rolls under my skin. My bones are liquid fire. I stagger for words, but none find the surface.
He tosses something on the bed.
My Cord.
Waking thoughts, too fluid to grasp, drip from my mind. He can’t feel anything for me. Why would he? But that’s not the real problem.
The question I wrestle with is . . . do I?
Cole adjusts his hat the same way he always does. “I’m taking you,” he says, “only because you’ll die otherwise. Do exactly what I tell you. Cut through the hedge and wait for me at the end of the drive. I’ll be there in ten minutes. I need to pull some things together.”
He opens the door and walks out.
His kiss won’t affect me. It was merely another one of his distractions. A way to take off my Cord without feeling the pain. That’s all it was. At least I think it was. But maybe not. I can’t think straight. I have to think straight
. Focus. Gray will be hunting me down any minute now, demanding to know where I’ve gone.
I want to leave Maddox a note, but I know it would only waste time. I quickly take Gladys’s hairpin from the dresser, the gift she gave when she said I’d always belong. That I’d always have a family. She handed me the hairpin and said her days in the field were over, and now she protects hearts. But that was before she knew what I really was.
My finger brushes over the white flower. I wish she could see the silver pin in my hair and know how badly I want to belong. That I tried. But more than anything, I want to see my mother. I want to place this token in her hair to let her know she is loved.
I tuck it in my pocket and then unfold Maddox’s note. The knotted twine. Together. I hold the sketch longer than I should and let the scent soak into my fingers. I want to take it with me. But I can’t risk Sage finding the drawing and connecting it to Maddox somehow. I glance at the beautiful, perfect strokes of each line one last time. Then tuck it under the pillow. With nothing more that belongs to me, I leave.
The corridor is shaded with inky light from the setting sun ducking behind the trees. When I reach the hedge, I hesitate. Maybe the right choice is to find Maddox and have him talk me out of this. Follow the plan and fight in the war. Give up my life. Too many thoughts muddle together at the same time.
“Hold it right there.” Heavy boots clomp behind me.
I freeze.
It’s Gray. The glint in his lying eyes and the arrogant curve of his cruel lips destroy any self-restraint. “You knew about my mother. You knew Sage took her, and you lied!” I charge at him, fueled with nothing but raw emotion. I claw at his neck and manage one good swipe before he twists my arm behind my back.
“Your time is up.” He jerks me around and drags me down the pathway. Around the building. Toward another door.
I dig my heels, kicking, fighting to break free. I punch, wiggle, even bite, for crying out loud. Gray tries to shove me down a stone staircase, but his strength can’t break my fight. It’s only when he tries to kick me and I dodge his boot that I lose my balance and end up falling down the uneven stairs. My back hits the cold ground of a dark cellar. My breath is knocked to the ceiling. Gray is masked by daylight as he descends the stairs. I scurry backward, deeper into the damp air. Into swallowing darkness. I try to scream, but the sound gets caught in my throat.
Gray’s walk is deliberate and slow. The smell of blood intensifies. I crawl backward until my fingers meet a wall. I slide up along the bumpy stone. I rise to my feet. But the cellar is too narrow. I can’t dart around him to escape up the stairs.
I’m trapped.
I can’t see his face. Or even if his knife is in his hands. Only his black silhouette standing in front of me with one hand against the wall, hemming me in.
A metal gate squeaks open near me. Gray forces me inside. My heels find the back wall. I turn my cheek, blindly waiting, waiting, and waiting to feel what he’ll do to me down in the damp pit where no one will hear me scream.
He slams the door.
A lock clicks shut.
I search for the scent of blood. Listen for his footsteps. Wait for the feel of his breath.
But his receding boots pound each stone step. Fifteen total. The wooden door bangs shut. Lights black out.
I collapse in a puddle on the floor, trembling. The Cormorants were terrible, but Gray’s loathsome hate, treating me like I’m the monster I always feared I was, caging me in a cellar, is so much worse.
My fingers grope the dark. Gritty shelves line the wall. A nagging leak drips with no rhythm. There’s a chill in the humid air that rubbing my arms won’t quell. Something skitters.
I scramble to my feet. My fingers fumble, searching for a doorknob on the gate. There isn’t one. Just a hole smaller than my pinky in the center of a rough metal plate. I shake the door. Clanging iron reverberates through the dark but won’t give way. I reach through the slats and brush my fingers over the slick stone, hoping for a nearby key. Something crawls over my knuckles with a soft tickle. I scream and shake out my hand—shake my whole body free of spiders, scorpions, or who knows what else is locked in here with me.
There’s no way out. No way to save my mother. No way to survive. I hang my head against the iron slat.
Maybe this is what Milton meant when he said, “Blind be blinded more, / That they may stumble on and deeper fall.” I’ve reached that. I’m blinded, fallen, and waiting for execution along with the death of whatever fantasy I had about fitting in, changing the world, and protecting Mom. She will die before sunlight ever touches my skin. I’ll never see her face or smell the lavender in her hair. I’ll never hear her laugh or feel her fingers tuck my hair behind my ear and tell me to stand up straight. She’ll die alone. She’ll never know that I’ve died too, left to bleed on the ground in some dismal prison where the sun can’t find me.
I wipe my eyes. The scent of Maddox’s drawing lingers on my hands. How could he believe that I could make a difference in the world?
As an endless leak counts the time, Milton’s verse whispers in my head. “This powerful key / Into my hands was given.”
There is no key, Milton. I’ve searched. And Sin’s lines about guarding the gates so no one leaves hell isn’t the encouragement I need right now.
I sink to the floor.
Something pokes my leg from inside my pocket. Gladys’s hairpin. As my fingers blindly trace the flower, the metal warms in my hand with a similar hum as the Paradise Steel.
“Then in the keyhole turns / The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar / Of massy iron or solid rock with ease / Unfastens.”
I doubt the hairpin will turn the lock. The hole is too big. But I’m desperate. I search the metal plate with one hand and guide the hairpin to the lock with the other. The metal scorches my fingers. Instinctively, I let go, dropping the pin. Stupid! I reach through the bar, scouring the ground, searching over the slimy stone. My shoulder digs into the slats as I strain, stretching until my fingers find the slim metal.
I try again. This time I hold the pin loosely—with the same respect I gave the Steel. I place the pin in the lock, wiggling it around, and breathe through the burning. A tiny flash of golden light sparks inside the lock. Then a faint click snaps. The door springs open.
I’m shocked, but somehow not. Thank you, Milton. I secure the pin back in my pocket and reach out, feeling for the stairs. I once thought heights and I weren’t compatible. But I’ll take hanging ten stories high in a freezing cell tower over being trapped in the dark any day. I kick into the bottom step and trip, my shins digging into the stone. I’ll have a nasty bruise for sure.
From somewhere outside a voice says, “The admiral arrived. Sergeant Carver wants us all in the War Room.”
I hold my breath and listen. Two sets of footsteps walk away. With everyone busy, and Gray believing I’m locked up, I’ve got time to escape. I hope.
I carefully slip outside. A daunting brigade of gunmetal-gray vehicles pack the drive, but no one is around. As quietly as I can, I duck into the hedge and navigate through the woods, leaving a trail of yellow leaves with every touch.
I blast through the forest following the path Cole showed me. Finally, I push aside the curtain of shrubs at the end of the drive. White flowers from the crepe myrtles fall like snowflake blossoms. Cole is waiting for me. My breath quickens at the sight of him without his hat. He carries a sling bag over his shoulder and dangles the straps of two thin helmets on his index finger.
“You’re late,” he says with the same tense expression Maddox has when he’s angry. “Thought you changed your mind.”
Being trapped in a cellar has only solidified my decision to leave. “I got held up,” I say. I hesitate sharing the rest of the story, afraid he might change his mind now that I’m a fugitive. But then again, maybe Cole should stay. I wouldn’t want the same treatment for him if he gets caught. “It was Gray,” I confess. “He thinks I’m still locked in his dungeon. I don�
�t know how long I have before he knows I’ve escaped.”
Cole looks me over, searching for the bruising evidence of my truth. “Was it the cellar?”
“Maybe it’s better if you don’t come,” I say. “You’ve already taken off my Cord. Just close the gate after I’m gone. And, just in case, can I have the Paradise Steel?” I hold out my palm.
Cole hands me a helmet as if he didn’t hear my question. His eyes narrow with determined focus, undaunted by my confession. “I’ve been thinking of a plan to get your mother out.” He takes Gray’s bike from the thicket and walks it down the drive at a brisk pace. “It’s basically a suicide mission, but it will work if Sage or his army aren’t waiting for us.”
I jog after him. “Really?”
He checks over his shoulder, but it’s clear. “Sage’s place is several stories high. The cars are parked in a garage underneath with keys in the ignition. Your mom is most likely on the second floor in one of the guest suites at the top of the stairs. Reports say Sage and his army are headed this way. If we can dodge him, I’ll go up, get your mom, and bring her down. If she’s not there, then there’s no telling where Sage has her. And we’ll need to get out before we’re caught.”
“I’m not—”
“Cera.” His use of my name stops me from arguing. “If we hit that point, we won’t be able to get out. Sage will use his entire army to keep you. Destroying a Legion is one thing, but killing Cormorants . . . that’s a different story. As far as I know, the only person who’s ever killed one is Gray. He’s legendary on both sides of the Wall.”
A branch cracks under my feet when I stop. “He’s killed one?”
Cole keeps walking. “Rumor has it he saved a young kid by shoving his Steel so hard in the Cormorant’s chest, he hit the beast’s heart, and the sucker died instantly. Don’t know if it was the knife, his own strength, or both, but Gray walked away with nothing but a small scratch on his left shoulder.”
Realms of Light (The Colliding Line Book 2) Page 13
