I swallowed and looked back at Alex, holding up a hand to tell him to stop. If Tian was in there with the sentinel, then that changed things dramatically. Because if it was holding her prisoner, I had to be extremely careful to make sure she wasn’t caught in the crosshairs. My mind raced, and I realized that in my hurry to get over here, I had neglected to tell anyone where I was going—or call for backup. I had only been concerned for Mercury. He… She was the best resource we had, and I owed her my life twice over.

But now I was here, without any backup—save my brother—facing an automaton that had been designed for fighting, and had recently murdered six individuals in a violent act no more than two days ago. And here I was, about to go in swinging with nothing but my baton. We were in serious trouble.

My brother nodded, showing that he understood to stay there, and I turned back to the open door. The thumping from inside continued, but Tian hadn’t spoken again, and I was getting concerned. I eased my way along the wall, coming up to the edge of the door.

I stuck my head through the doorway for three heartbeats, scanning from left to right, and then ducked back. The door led into a common area that was sunk three feet into the floor. A counter running from the left wall separated the kitchen from the living room, while the dining room was set to the right, hidden by a half wall. A hall ran between them, and as my eyes slid over the darkened space, I suddenly saw it: a burning orange glow, illuminating a single figure at the end of it.

It had only been a brief flash, but I knew in my spine that it was the sentinel.

“Security door unbreakable,” a robotic voice said. “Activating countermeasures.”

“Jang-Mi, stop it!” This time, Tian’s voice held an edge of desperation to it. “Don’t do this!”

I frowned. Tian was trying to reason with it? What was she thinking?!

And several other questions followed on the tail of that one. Why was she here? Was the sentinel keeping her hostage? Why hadn’t whoever was controlling the sentinel taken her away from it?

I put the questions aside; Tian could answer them for me as soon as we freed her from the sentinel. But first I had to deal with it.

I looked back at my brother and nodded him over. Then, in very slow Callivax (the special hand language used by the Divers in Water Treatment) I told him to go in and to the left five seconds after I went in.

To my relief, he had brushed up on his Callivax recently, and nodded, then quickly repeated the instructions back to me, his hands flying.

I exhaled, leaned over to make sure the machine’s back was to me, and then darted through the opening, keeping my feet light and taking care not to bump into any of the shelves that lined the place. I aimed for the wall—the best place to keep the sentinel from seeing us, given its position at the end of the hall—and settled between two shelving units that were packed with slim black IT manuals. I’d never seen so many in my life, but now was not the time to gawk.

I took a moment to catch my breath and ease my heartbeat, which was now stamping out a tattoo on the inside of my ribs, convinced that the sound would draw the sentinel. I stared warily at the opening, tense and jumpy, but nothing emerged.

Instead, the dim orange glow being emitted by the sentinel suddenly intensified with a sharp, wet hiss, and I recognized the sound and angry, bruised-orange glow with an instinctive chill. It was a cutter.

Movement caught my eye to the left, and I shifted the angle of my head enough to see my brother crouching low to the floor and making his way quickly to the left side of the room, angling for the wall as well. I tracked his progress from the corner of my eye, while keeping my gaze on the hall. I could hear the sharp zzt of sparks, which were accompanied by bursts of orange light.

“Keep your eyes closed, Yu-Na,” a feminine voice crooned, and I cocked my head. Was there someone else in the hall? Who was Yu-Na?

Also, why did their voice sound so tinny? Like it was coming through a speaker or something?

Crap. If there was someone else in there, then trying to sneak up on the sentinel was a very bad idea. We’d be spotted by whoever else was there. We needed to draw them out.

I looked around the room, thinking, and my eyes stopped on the bookshelf to my left. Books. Small, light, and infinitely throwable.

I grabbed a handful of the slim volumes and then motioned for my brother, quickly signing for him to go over the half wall on his side, and then made my way to the counter. I carefully climbed across it and dropped, landing lightly on the floor. The kitchen was spacious, with an island in the middle, but I paid little attention to it and focused on the hall. I was probably three feet away from the entrance by now, and the light coming from the end of it was almost blinding, flashing white-hot and orange colors that made me wince.

I waited for Alex to get into place and saw that he was now sliding something over the knuckles of his left hand—a pulse shield. Seeing it gave me pause, because only Inquisitors were supposed to have pulse shields, but I set it aside. He could tell me where he’d gotten it later. For now, I was just grateful he’d had enough sense to bring a weapon.

I quickly explained what I was going to do in Callivax, and he nodded and slid out of sight behind the wall on the other side of the hall. I stood up and did the same, keeping myself right around the corner from the opening.

Then I grabbed one of the books and tossed it, very loudly, over the counter and into the living room. For a second, the sound of cutting carried on, and then it suddenly switched off with a click.

The silence was almost deafening, and I felt my breath catch as my throat suddenly tightened.

“Jang-Mi?” Tian asked, her voice carrying down the hall. “Are you with me?”

“Motion detected,” the robotic voice croaked. “Searching.”

There were several heavy sounds of metal hitting metal, and I felt the vibrations coursing up through the floor. The sentinel was moving.

I took a quick glimpse around the corner, and sure enough, a thick leg slid into view, stamping down on the floor with its odd, hexagon-shaped boot. The sentinel eased out of the hallway slowly, and I noticed several things at once. The first was that it was wearing a cloak similar to the kind I had seen Lacey’s people wearing in Cogstown. The design somehow made it easier to blend in with the walls of the Tower.

The second thing I noticed was the small form slung over its shoulder. Her shredded skirt stuck up off its shoulder like a flower, and her black-clad legs and heavy black boots dangled against its chest. It held her in place with one hand, while the other one—the one on Alex’s side of the room—held something that I didn’t recognize. What I did recognize was how the sentinel held it in its hand. It was a weapon of some sort. Possibly the same one it had used on those people in the condensation room.

Images of bisected limbs and torsos spilled into my mind, and a small sound escaped my throat. I ducked back just as I saw the head snap around in the direction of the kitchen, red glowing from the depths of its deep hood. I moved quickly, silently crossing the floor and ducking behind the island. I changed positions just in time, because a heartbeat later, the sentinel clanged into the kitchen. I didn’t see it, but I both heard and felt it, and tensed.

It stopped, and a soft whir of mechanical noise kicked up. I carefully eased my way back along the counter, moving with painstaking slowness so as not to create the slightest breath of noise. It was right on the other side.

I froze when I heard the clang of its foot again, moving toward the space between the wall and the counter. If it came around the island, it would see me—unless I was safely on the other side.

I picked up the pace, and had my hips around the corner when the sentinel clanged into view. I looked up from where I was kneeling to see its face peering down at me from the hood. The metallic orbs that made up its eyes were the source of the fiery red, illuminating the angular lines of its artificial face.

“Enemy detected,” it said, raising the weapon in its hand and leveling it at me. I stared at the weapon, horrified. It was a flat bar, with a narrow seam running down the middle. The sentinel’s hand was gripped tightly around a handle—which had a silver canister underneath that looked like it could contain compressed air. “Awaiting orders.”

My eyes widened as it continued to stare at me, and I realized it was in fact getting orders. I had to get away before the thing got a response, but I was afraid to move, worried it would just pull the trigger.

So I waited, hoping Alex would put that pulse shield to good use.

Tian, however, was not that patient, and pushed herself up as much as she was able to. She turned at the waist and looked over the sentinel’s shoulder. “Jang-Mi, stop doing this!” she shouted, smacking a small hand against the sentinel’s head. “Wake up!”

What was Tian doing? It was insane! I mean, Tian was a little odd at times, but this was crazy, even for her.

“Tian, keep still!” I ordered, taking the small risk of moving only my mouth.

The little girl swiveled even farther around, her hand using the sentinel’s head to help give her leverage, and her wide doll’s eyes grew even wider, filling with horror. “Liana! No! You don’t know what it can do! You have to run!”

“It’s a little late for that, kiddo,” I said softly. C’mon, Alex.

“No, it’s not! Run! She can’t control what she’s doing!”

She? Man, this was getting weirder and weirder. But I couldn’t do much with that weapon trained on me, so I said nothing, and waited. Why was it taking so long? Where was that owner of the other voice I had heard, and why wasn’t she in here calling the shots?

“Orders confirmed. Kill the Knight.”

“What? NO!” Tian screamed, kicking her legs frantically.

I stared up at the weapon in the thing’s hand, time spinning into slow motion as a single point of light bloomed in the seam between the two flat parts. I threw myself back behind the counter—but knew that it was already too late.

That weapon, if it was the same one from the condensation room, would cut through the counter like butter to get me.

Before I was even fully behind the counter, though, the sentinel jerked one leg up into the air and interrupted the action. Tian screamed as a beam of crimson light streaked over my head into the corner, shooting up sparks as it hit the ceiling above, and leaving a trail of red, molten metal in its wake. And then the entire floor shook as the sentinel—four hundred and fifty pounds of metal—crashed onto the floor in the kitchen.

I jerked to my feet, shaken, but a quick check of my arms and limbs confirmed that the blast from the weapon hadn’t hit me. “Grab Tian!” I shouted to my brother as I came flying around the counter. I was going to take its weapon; if it was that powerful, maybe it could cut through the sentinel’s limbs.

Alex suddenly appeared, bent over, and yanked a dazed Tian from the sentinel’s arm. The sentinel lay there stunned, and I stepped closer, swallowing my fear. Its arms and legs twitched and jerked, gears whirring internally as it tried to move. The hand holding the weapon was lifting up and down, but I quickly jammed my baton into the thing’s face and released the charge.

The sentinel seized up, and there was a harsh pop, followed by a bright spark from its mouth. I held the baton there until the charge was expended, and the sentinel collapsed back on the floor, the glow in its eyes shutting off. I withdrew my baton and quickly bent over to grab the only thing I could: the flat bar that made the mouth of the weapon.

I started tugging, trying to wrest the object from the sentinel’s grip, and I heard Alex grunt, followed by a skidding sound. A quick glance showed me that he was already carrying Tian away from the kitchen. “Get Mercury!” I told him before resuming my attempt to get the weapon away from it. An inch of it slipped out of the closed fist. That was a start.

I placed my foot on its wrist and continued to tug, fighting its powerful grip.

“Liana?” Tian said softly. Alex hadn’t left yet.

“Not a good time, sweetie,” I said, gritting my teeth. The weapon gave another fraction of an inch. Almost there.

“Liana. Stop what you’re doing right now.”

The note of urgency in her voice brought me up short, and I looked up to see the little girl staring at us both with alarmed eyes.

Then I got the distinct impression that I was being watched. I looked down at the sentinel’s face, which was inches away from my foot, and saw that its eyes were now glowing again, only this time it was an angry lilac color—and it was glaring at me. I barely had a moment to register that before it shoved the hand I was gripping forward, driving it into my chest. Hard.

I stumbled back, my breath exploding violently out of my lungs, and hit the counter behind me. I fought to keep calm, though my body was screaming at me that I was suffocating, and opened my eyes in time to see it kick off its back into a standing position, facing me.

It brought its arm up, leveled at me, and without thinking, I dove in between its wide legs, ducking under the cloak it was wearing and rolling forward to my feet. Relying purely on instinct, I jumped up and over the counter, trying to put some distance and objects between us.

Alex was already two steps in front of me, Tian in his arms, and he threw himself down into the lowered sitting area, taking cover behind one of the sofas. I followed, leaping for it rather than running, and hit a center table with a crash, bouncing and rolling off of it into a couch. I opened my eyes to see the sentinel marching out from behind the counter, and slid into the gap between the couch and low table. I pushed the edge of the table up, creating cover behind it, and then cowered below it.

Seconds later, streaks of crimson fire shot over us, across the room, in bursts. Sparks exploded from the impact sites, showering down on us, and I covered my face with my hands, trying not to get singed by the hot, molten slag.

“Hey!” my brother shouted, and I looked over to where he was hiding behind the other couch to see Tian scrambling out from where he had curled protectively around her.

“Tian!” I shouted, but she slipped away, heading up the stairs toward the sentinel.

“Jang-Mi, STOP!” she screamed as she reached the top. I slid out from behind the table in time to see her come to a stop in front of the sentinel, both arms raised and legs spread wide.

The sentinel immediately ceased using its weapon and looked down at the small girl, who was nodding encouragingly.

“Your mission here is done.”

The sentinel was still for several seconds, and then suddenly sprang into motion, picking Tian up with one hand and placing her on its shoulder. Then it began to run—and I did mean run—out of the room. It was gone before I could even think to stand up.

I stared after it for a long moment. “What the hell just happened?” I asked no one in particular.