The Cage(116)

“He can’t catch both of us,” Lucky yelled. “Keep going!”

Cora was crying now, that they had Lucky, and Mali and Leon were both gone, and she was on her own. The only way she could keep going was to tell herself that she’d come back for him. She’d head to the lowest level, and find the Mosca traders, and come back to rescue him.

She turned another corner as sweat poured down the back of her neck. A door stood at the end—a chance to hide. She threw herself against it.

Her beating heart was all she could hear as she dug her fingernails into the seam, screaming at the stupid door to open. She heard footsteps behind her and worked faster. The door didn’t budge. There were no tools around, only a blue cube above the doorway. An amplifier.

Rolf had said if she could damage it, the Kindred wouldn’t be able to open the doors with their telekinesis. Maybe the opposite was also true—if she broke it, maybe she could override the door and open it by hand.

She wedged her foot in the doorway and used it as leverage to push herself up until she could grab hold of the cube. She’d been expecting something hard like plastic, but it was cold and pulsing and wet, more like ice. Shock made her let go, and she had to climb up again, her heart pounding harder.

She gripped the cube again and dropped her weight. The sudden force made the cube splinter with a jolt of electricity. She cried out as she crashed to the ground, then scrambled to the door and shoved her fingers into the seam. It opened an inch, enough to wedge her toe in. Thank you, Rolf. She pushed harder, and it glided open.

She stumbled through the doorway, then pushed it closed behind her. She was in a room the size of the medical chamber, only not nearly as sparse. It was packed with a chaos of belongings, stacked on the floor, propped on a circular desk ringing nearly the entire room. Most of the clutter was unfamiliar—blue cubes of all sizes, boxes stuffed with a variety of apparatuses—but a few things seemed vaguely recognizable. Stacks of the Kindred’s cerulean clothing. A communicator like Cassian wore on his wrist. Metal boxes with lids piled against the wall. It all looked haphazard, but Cora got the sense it was actually highly organized, in the same way the market had been.

She took a hesitant step into the room. Several of the black windows had been set into the walls, projecting a variety of different images. Cages. Dozens of them. Not a single one of them theirs. She took a step forward and unfolded one of the blue fabric uniforms. The material was fine, supple but strong. Cerulean, the color of authority. Fearfully, she counted the row of knots down the side.

Twenty knots. Far more than any of the other Kindred she’d seen.

She must have run straight into the Warden’s personal office.





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55

Cora

SHE SCRAMBLED TOWARD THE wall, but the door didn’t open. She dug in her fingernails, but it wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard she pulled. She must have broken it. She punched at the door. Screamed at it. Frantically, she waded back into the mess of belongings to try to find something to pry the door open. She grabbed one of the arm-length apparatuses, but it was hinged and merely slumped to the ground like liquid. She tossed it away and threw the lid off one of the metal boxes, but paused.

Comic books. Just as she had seen in the market. She pushed the first few aside, but none had a date. Her fingers caught on something hard, and she pulled out a worn hardback book. Her breath stilled as she recognized the faded cover.

Peter Pan and Wendy. Dog-eared halfway through.

The same copy from Cassian’s bedroom.

Her fingers curled around the book. What did it mean, finding it here? Her mind only reached one conclusion, and a frightened sound slipped out of her throat. The Warden must have found it in Cassian’s room. He must have figured out that Cassian was developing sympathies for the humans.

Had the Warden set Cassian up? Had him followed this entire time, because he knew that Cassian was no longer loyal to him?

She hugged the book tight. This explained the soldiers who’d been waiting for them to break through the fail-safe exit. The Warden must have learned of Cassian’s true loyalties and gotten the information out of him. Had he tortured Cassian? Killed him? No, surely he wouldn’t sacrifice one of his best soldiers. But he might have Cassian imprisoned somewhere, awaiting some awful fate.

She leaned on the desk as the strength leached out of her. They’d gotten Lucky. They’d probably gotten Mali and Leon too. Now it seemed they’d even gotten Cassian. She was trapped in the Warden’s own office.