We Who Are Forged in Fire, page 10
I won’t forgive him, if that’s what he wants. Of all the things I want to fix in the world, Dominic is not a priority. And what would be the point, anyway? He’s still a Renegade.
Unless … unless his plan involves not being a Renegade anymore. I think of what he said in his message: You want us all to stop. You’re the only one who can do it.
At the edge of the terrace I pause, looking down the slope to the sea. From here I can see the helicopter pad where Robbie landed the floater, and a scattering of buildings that might have been equipment sheds once, full of paddle boards and sun loungers. In the distance, near the horizon, something huge and unnatural briefly surfaces between the white-tipped waves. Without access to my power I do not know what it might be: a kraken or a saltwater kaiju, or some other deep-sea beast set loose from the Hollow. The reason all the boats anchored in the bay are armoured.
Somehow, I have to handle Dominic. Placate him, without giving in to him. I don’t want to be part of whatever his plan is, yet I can’t avoid him forever and I can’t lie to him either. I can’t make him promises that he’ll see, in his dreams, I have no intention of keeping.
If I make one wrong step with him, he could blow my cover.
This spy business is a lot more complicated than I’d considered.
All you can do is stay out of his way, as much as you can, Fox says, in a remarkably logical way that reminds me of Mouse.
‘Sounds good to me,’ I say, then hold my breath, skin crawling, as a group of mesmerised norms pass by. Now that I know about them, they’re easy to spot. Expressionless and stilted. They’re like robots – more than Arnold ever was – but there’s no doubt there are real people stuck inside. They’re even more reason for me to be here. To put a stop to this cruel empire.
I return to the mess hall in time for dinner. The long room is filled with a jumble of furniture: camp chairs and velvet-upholstered dining benches, beautiful mahogany tables and trestles made out of old doors. Plenty of chairs are already filled with people chatting noisily over their plates. General Squad A is mostly younger folks, in the same age range as trainees and young Hollow Warriors, although there is a table of older people – the kind of hardened, grizzled warriors I’d once imagined all Renegades to be.
The food is laid out to the side like at the Vienna base, and it all looks amazing, somehow produced out here in the middle of nowhere … I guess by mesmerised auxiliaries. Ugh. We enjoy the finer things in life. There’s glossy noodles, and piles of fried rice, and bowls of vegetables. The familiars are likewise served with a variety of meats, seeds and vegetables on a lower table.
I take my time picking out what to eat. I’m avoiding that moment of having to find a place to sit. I always hated those moments in Vienna, when nobody wanted me at their table.
When my plate has no more space to pile food onto, and Fox has – naturally – a sausage between her teeth, I take a breath and turn around. But here, I don’t have a chance to agonise. At a table near the windows, a bunch of rebels my age are waving me over.
‘Hey! You want to sit with us?’
‘Come on over!’
Three of them shuffle on a bench to make room for me, then they’re asking my name and giving me theirs, and their familiars are greeting Fox beneath the table, while someone pushes over an old tomato tin with cutlery in it. Someone else pushes a sticky, lidless bottle of chilli sauce into my hands and tells me it’s amazing and goes on everything.
I forget all their names instantly. My mind is too busy being at first suspicious of their intentions and then overcome by their warm welcome when I realise they’re for real. They don’t seem to mind my awkwardness. Their conversation meanders back to where it must have left off, teasing one of the boys about an obvious crush on another. He protests, loudly, amid peals of laughter.
I don’t know any of my fellow diners, or their stories, and they don’t know mine, but they’re not excluding me – even though they must know who I am. They’d know guild gossip, and would have heard about the young warrior who evolved a famous, rare and scary power. But they’re not afraid of me.
This is, weirdly, what I thought going on my training would be like.
I scoop up some of the crispy, eggy rice and shove it in my mouth. Also: woah. They were right. The chilli sauce is really good.
As the meal goes on, I catch myself feeling strangely relaxed. I can’t forget my dining companions want to burn down the guild, to destroy everything I’ve devoted my life to. On the other hand, being relaxed means I fit in with them. It’s great for my cover. And the raucous scene reminds me of dinners at home. Of my family, and my sisters shrieking insults at each other.
It’s good, hey, Fox says to me from under my chair, where she’s communing with her fellow familiars. She sounds as surprised and perplexed as I am.
After dinner, I go to Delilah’s quarters. The leaders keep themselves separate from the other rebels, at the very top floor of the hotel. Guards block access to the wide corridor to the penthouse suites, and I have to explain myself before being admitted. The lights still work up here, glowing above the doors. One of them is Dominic’s. I’m glad my echo sense shows he’s not inside.
I take a moment to steel myself outside the door with a painting of a tiger on it before knocking.
Delilah calls out to come in.
Her suite is stuffed with furniture. Shiny objects – candlesticks and jewellery and perfume bottles – cluster atop the surfaces; heavy brocade drapes hang at the windows; Persian rugs layer the floor. It’s like luxury threw up in here. Her tiger is asleep on the balcony. Beyond it, the sea glimmers dully in the night.
‘So. You need a dress.’ She crosses to a huge armoire and starts rummaging inside. ‘Here. You can have this one.’ She presses the hanger into my hands, a confection of fabric flowing from it like a silky waterfall. The dress is the green of a shadowed forest, trimmed with a net of black sequins. It’s far too dramatic – not my style at all.
‘You’ll look hot,’ Delilah says, lounging back on her bed. It’s a lot larger and fancier than my camp bed downstairs. ‘Dominic will lose his mind.’
‘I – I’m not, we’re not –’ I stammer, clutching the dress to me.
Delilah laughs. ‘Silly. Of course you are. Isn’t that why you joined us?’
I don’t believe she believes that. She’s acting casual and gossipy, but she’s watching carefully for my response.
‘No.’ I reach for my rehearsed excuses. ‘I’m here because I believe in the cause, that the guild is corrupt and –’
‘You’re lying to us both now.’ Her lips purse. Now she’s looking at me like a tiger herself, considering cornered prey. ‘You should stop trying to hide things from me, Priscilla.’
My breath jerks in my throat. Has she seen through me like Cheryl always does? Has Dominic told her something? I think of that impossibly tall, razorwire-topped fence, and the guards patrolling it. How will I get out of this place if I need to run?
‘What do you mean?’ I say.
‘There’s clearly something going on between the two of you. Admit it.’
‘Oh, me and Dominic. Um. No, there isn’t.’ I’m still in love with someone else, and I broke both our hearts to come here. ‘I mean, we might flirt, but nothing more than that is going to happen between us.’
‘Hmm. Flirting means it already has.’
I look down. Even pretending to flirt with Dominic feels like a huge betrayal to Onyeka.
‘I don’t know,’ I say slowly. ‘I don’t like what he did to me. I mean. It’s clear I was always going to end up a Renegade, with the power I have, but he made everything harder. Maybe I would have been here earlier if he hadn’t taken my power off me. If he’d just talked to me more.’
‘Yeah, he was a dick to you, I’ll admit. Probably because we were all telling him to get your power from you. Once we found out about you, that’s all we wanted. We didn’t think this would happen, actually. You joining us. We thought you were a Daalman, through and through. But you can’t stay bitter at Dominic,’ Delilah continues. ‘You know how focused we are on our end goals. Sacrifices have to be made.’
‘Yes, I know. I’m here now, anyway. That’s all in the past.’
‘Good.’ She sighs. ‘I’m done. You can go now.’
‘Um, thanks for the dress.’
‘Looking forward to seeing him see you in it,’ she says, waving me towards the door.
I stop outside to collect my breath, arms full of silk and sequins. Both Delilah and Dominic unnerve me. Both of them, I think, have something planned for me.
The question is, do they have the same plans – or am I a pawn in two separate games?
I suppose it’s no surprise that I dream of Dominic on my first night at the rebel base. We’re sleeping separated only by a few floors of wormy timbers and threadbare carpets, the tether taut between us.
But this dream is different from the others – because in it, I see me, through his eyes, with his feelings. It’s a strange sensation, like seeing the world through two pairs of eyes at once. He’s watching Priscilla stand on the cracked terrace, looking at the ocean and the distant unearthly beasts, and he’s caught in a snare. Caught by her.
He watches her, heart clenched like a fist. He’d promised himself, a long time ago, never to get attached to anyone. To keep the world at arm’s length, because any closer and it would burn him. He knows love only leads to pain.
Then he went and fell in love with Priscilla Daalman.
And then he lost her too. Because that’s what happens to him. That’s what always happens.
He should’ve kept himself guarded, stopped himself.
Shouldn’t have let her do that to him.
Shouldn’t have got caught up in the way she grinned at him, or the way she nervously bit her lip. The way she was so beautifully uncertain and unsteady, so humble. The secret ambition inside her, which he’d been so certain he could spark into a true hunger for power – he’d loved it all. And when he sees her now, something yawns and wakens in his heart again, like that –
I snap awake, my head spinning from the intensity of his feelings, from the weirdness of seeing myself from someone else’s perspective.
Dominic was in love with me? Then how could he have done all those things to me?
The answer comes as soon as I wonder: because he didn’t want to love me. He resisted it. Kept on the path he’d set himself many years ago, a way lined with thorns. He’d thought if he held true to his course that he’d self-correct and forget the girl with the black hair and big eyes and bigger heart.
Only then, we became mind-linked. And now we can’t get rid of each other.
He loved me. He was furious and resentful about it.
Does he still?
I need you.
Like water, or air, or food. Or love.
If he does still love me, then it is nothing like the way I love Onyeka. Onyeka is safety, and breathlessness, and the feel of her hands on my hips as she pulls me closer. An aching warmth. I could never be mad at myself for loving her – only for breaking her heart.
Blinking in the gloom, my body softens against the rough blankets of the camp bed. Aligning back with myself until I’m me again, with only my emotions inside – not his. But something’s changed now that I’ve seen things through his eyes.
I’m still angry at Dominic for all his lies and everything he did to me, and I still won’t forgive him. I’m still wary of him, and scared he will reveal my secret.
Only now I also can’t help feeling a scrap of sympathy for him.
In the morning, I push the dream aside and force myself to focus on why I’m here. It’s my first full day as a spy in the Renegade base, and I’ve got to find an escape route in case my scheme falls apart. I don’t know what I’d do after escaping, since I can’t go back to the guild until the Renegades are no more, but at least I’d be alive to figure it out.
So, after breakfast, I head outside again – continuing to acquaint myself with the grounds, if anyone asks. This time, I go out the grand front entrance from the lobby. There are no gates to be seen in the reinforced fence beyond the overgrown gardens – no way for ground vehicles to come in or out. No way for me. I wonder where the nearest civilian settlement even is, because that’s where I’d need to get to once breaching the fence. If this part of the world is so abandoned, then I could be days – weeks – away from anywhere.
I’m starting to feel like the best plan is to not need an escape plan.
As I’m counting the number of guards in the watchtowers, a nearby explosion cracks the air, earth shaking beneath my feet.
Whassat! Fox shrieks, leaping vertically off the ground. I grab her and cower as dirt patters down like rain. Dust and smoke billow into the air.
Frozen, I wait for an alarm.
Then I notice the guards are unmoved, carrying on their duties as normal. A crew comes into view, jogging in formation beneath the morning sun. They continue around the drift of smoke.
Nobody is concerned about an explosion?
I understand why when I spot Carmen striding through the dust cloud, grin on her sooty face, stick of dynamite in hand.
Suppose we all have to have a hobby, Fox says apprehensively, shaking the dirt from her fur.
‘Let’s stay well away from that one too,’ I mutter, hurrying in the other direction. Another explosion booms behind us as we go, sending birds squawking out of the trees in the jungle.
I follow a path through the long grass, passing the cracked concrete of an old parking bay where rusted hovermobiles have been left to decay beneath tilting palm trees. The path leads me around a side building to an area where the overgrown gardens and trees mingle with the jungle, hiding a section of the fence. I wonder if I can get to the edge of the grounds unseen here. I keep going, branches scratching at my arms and legs, until I come across where the huge fence passes through a shadowy glade. I look around, double checking I’m alone, then step closer. It’s so tall. Climbing over will be tricky. If I had a tool I could cut a gap, but that means having to find a tool, and sneaking it out here.
‘Is this electrified?’ I whisper to Fox.
Fox carefully sniffs at it. No. I don’t think so.
‘How sure are you?’
Mmm. Ninety-five per cent.
So I have a five per cent chance of being electrocuted. Biting my lip, I reach out to touch the wire.
I am not electrocuted.
I experimentally pull myself up. It’s not too hard. Climbing is going to be less risky than finding a wire cutter, I think. At the top I would have to –
‘Um, hi?’
I let out an involuntary shriek, fall off the fence and turn around, cheeks heating up.
Busted.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
My sneaker-upperer is a girl about my age, with brown skin and thick dark hair piled atop her head. She’s one of the rebels I sat with at dinner yesterday, although I can’t remember her name. Strangely, she seems more curious than concerned to see me hoisting my way over the fence – standing relaxed with one hand on her hip and the other holding a bucket full of something extremely gross-smelling. I scan her quickly, but see no animal nearby. She’s powerless, but not mesmerised: either a warrior without power or a norm who wants to be here.
‘I – um.’ My mouth opens and shuts on a whole bunch of useless excuses.
‘You wouldn’t want to sneak out that way. They’ve got security sensors and cameras in the trees out there.’
‘I wasn’t sneaking out, I was just –’
She chuckles. ‘Sure you weren’t. Come on, you can’t cut and run, so you might as well help me with the wee ones.’ She turns and heads off, not looking back.
I glance at Fox.
I guess … go with her? Fox sounds as confused as I feel.
I jog to catch up, looking down to see the bucket is full of slimy old fish.
‘You get used to the smell,’ she says, noticing my look. ‘I’m Selena.’
‘Priscilla,’ I say, grateful she’s reminded me of her name.
‘Yeah, I remember. They said you’re going to be good for us. Helpful. That’s if they decide to trust you.’
I wrap a hand around the dampener on my other wrist. If Selena tells anyone she caught me trying to escape, the device won’t be taken off. My power won’t come back to me, and I won’t be doing anything helpful for anyone.
I might not be doing anything much at all.
Maybe she wants something from me too. Maybe she’s going to blackmail me. I glance at her, chewing over the various ways she might try to extort me – only then she gives me an easy smile, an expression so completely free from guile. For the first time since arriving, I feel like I’ve met someone genuine. Someone with nothing to hide, who won’t make any demands of me.
‘I think they’ll trust you,’ she carries on. ‘I think they want your power, so they’ll have to. I’m going to trust you too.’
I jerk my thumb back at the fence. ‘But what about …’
‘What about what? I didn’t see anything. Nothing at all. Certainly not someone about to make a huge mistake. Listen, now, can you hear them? They’re hungry.’
We’re coming out of the trees at the top of the slope towards the beach. Past the old equipment sheds, closer to the wild spread of jungle at the edge of the grounds, I can see two huge domed cages, like aviaries. And I can hear squawking.
Squawking that sounds otherworldly, and also familiar.
Fox’s ears go back and she makes a quiet rumble. Oh hell no, she mutters as Selena leads us towards the cages. They did not …
I stop, stunned. Inside the first cage is a press of young snatchlings, their pink tongues darting. Inside the second, further down the path, is a tornado of pox fairies, chittering angrily.
They did, Fox mutters.
‘Holy crap, those are snatchlings and pox fairies,’ I say, staring at the caged monsters. With the dampener on, I hadn’t been able to sense them.
