Rebel Born (Secondborn #3)(101)

“Whose bodies are these?” I can’t bring myself to say his name. If Cherno tells me that one of them is Reykin, I’ll go insane.

“They’re Crow’s clones. I slaughtered some of them. But there are too many. They took the others and left me for dead.” Blood oozes from abrasions in his skin. He’s been descaled along his forearms and chest.

It takes several frantic beats of my heart to crush the rising panic. Crow has Reykin!

“Did you stop your heart and play dead?” I ask.

Cherno nods and groans. “It wasn’t hard.” He lifts his hand, and I see the gaping wound in his abdomen before he covers it again and coughs. Tar-black blood specks his lips.

My mind races. “I can help you.” I pull some of the surrounding energy to me and funnel it into Cherno, stoking his internal fire and beginning the healing process.

He hisses. Smoke streams from his nostrils, but he’s still too weak to stand.

“How long ago did this happen?” I ask. My hands jitter, and my guts are turning to butter. I don’t know if I can do this without him.

Cherno pants in pain. “Not long.”

“Does Crow know where I went?”

“Yes. Retreat inside Spectrum. Find another anchor.”

“If I do that, all of you die. Where are they?” I wipe his cheek with my hand, even though I know he finds my flesh repulsive.

“I never made it out of this room. Leave. Now.”

“I’m not running, Cherno. The monster in my head is as strong as his. I’m breaking my chains. Stay here. I’ll be back for you.”

He points above us. “Roselle, he told me there are thousands of him up there.”

A Crow army—the narcissist.

I shiver with dread. “He doesn’t know how to murder me and make it stick.”

“You and I know there are worse things than death.” Cherno winces, trying to rise. He groans and slumps back against the wall, puffing and holding his gaping wound. It’s knitting itself back together, but it’ll be a while before he can stand. He stares into my eyes, beseeching me to leave.

I shake my head. “I have to fight him now.”

“Roselle, in case I don’t see you,” Cherno grumbles, “it’s been a pleasure.”

“Knowing you has been mine, dragon.” I rise from his side and creep to the door.

“Roselle,” Cherno calls. “You might need this.” I turn and find him holding my St. Sismode sword, the one Crow took from me on my Transition Day. He tosses me the fusionblade. I catch it and stare at my family’s crest on the hilt. It feels like a toy in my hand, compared to the other weapons I have at my disposal. “I couldn’t let him keep it, once I knew it was yours.”

“Thank you, Cherno.” I ignite the blade. Golden energy sizzles from the strike port.

I open the door with my mind, and close it once I slip out of the onyx room and into the dark hallway. The light of my fusionblade illuminates the carnage in the corridor. Bloody membranes of Bermin slick the floor. Shrieks from the grizzly, man-sized bats lament the light that allows me to escape. I traverse the passage and curse under my breath, knowing the elevator is the only way out, unless I go back to the anchor.

I step inside the elevator and extinguish my fusionblade. Emboldened by the darkness, Bermin surge forward in a rush and flutter of wings. I pull myself through the emergency door in the ceiling, slam the hatch closed, and lie on top to keep the crazed fiends inside from breaking through. I wait until I’ve trapped several of the bloodthirsty creatures in the elevator, then, with my telekinetic power, trigger the car to rise. It speeds toward the surface.

As we approach the main level of the Tree, I cringe and turn my face, panicking that I miscalculated. The elevator stops with enough room so I’m not crushed. Below, the doors roll open. The Bermin’s bloodcurdling screams are cut short almost immediately as fusionmag pulses flood the elevator car. The scent of burning flesh assails my nostrils.

Someone enters below. No chatter. I hold my breath. The weight of a couple more bodies sways the car. The holographic sensor triggers on the control panel. Whoever they are, they intend to send the car back down. Their weight leaves the elevator, one by one. The doors slide closed. I open the hatch and swing down, easing gently to the floor. With my mind I seize control of the elevator again. I exhale deeply . . . and then I slide open the doors.

A hundred or more Crows stand around idly in the shallow Census bunker. The three that entered the elevator slink away with their smoking fusionmags, their backs to me. I raise my fusionblade, jam the strike port so it doesn’t extinguish, and hurl it at the one in the middle. It tumbles end over end until it reaches a Crow and slices through him vertically. He falls apart, his guts sliding down his crumpling legs. Using my mind, I draw the sword back to me like a boomerang and catch it in my palm with a loud smack.

“Roselle!” all the Crows say at once. A chorus of ninety-nine maniacs.

Fusionmags rise and aim at me in synchronization. They all fire at once. I hold up my palm and send out a single pulse of energy. It catches the fusion energy careening at me, reverses its direction, and amps up the severity of the charges. Lethal energy burns holes through the Crows’ armors and enters their bodies. The lethal charges bounce around, frying most of their molecules, and the Crows melt into piles of molten flesh.