32
THE WORLD FELL AWAY. PEOPLE were yelling things. None of it mattered, not until Chae Rin lifted me back to my feet.
“Pull it together!” Chae Rin shoved me. “I’m tired of saying it to you people, ugh!”
But I could barely hear her. “June . . . June . . . J—” I nearly collapsed again, but it was Chae Rin who held me upright.
Chae Rin and Lake appeared as spooked as the rest of the room, everyone looking from the Maia on-screen to me standing limply in the back. But it wasn’t Maia. That wasn’t Maia.
June.
No, it couldn’t have been.
June. My sister. The girl who shared my face. That was my face. My face staring back at me. But my face was hers. Every crevice was the same. My eyes welled up with tears. She’d had acne before she’d died, but it wasn’t there anymore. Maybe it wasn’t her after all. Maybe it was me. But it couldn’t be. I was here. And it couldn’t be my dead sister either.
Unless . . . June was alive?
Back in Madrid . . . Naomi’s shooting. I’d been so careful about hiding my face, but people had seen me anyway. Could it have been—
No. It was impossible.
But what if it wasn’t? What if June was alive?
June . . . alive. June was here. She’d come back from the dead. Was it to punish me? Was this Saul’s divine justice? But June would never hurt anyone. She certainly wouldn’t kill someone. I swayed on my feet, propping myself up by the knees as I gulped up air in short, frantic breaths.
Lake bent down and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me. “Maia, please get ahold of yourself! Breathe in and out, okay? Like this.”
As I tried to follow her lead, elsewhere in the room, Prince expressed his frustration in a low, baritone grumble.
“Cut the communications.” Prince motioned to the techs. “Make sure he can’t hear us. This has gone on long enough. Resume the weapons launch.”
“Dad!” Brendan cried, grabbing his arm.
“Enough!” He yanked his arm out of his son’s grip. “We need to take out Saul. Now!”
Take out Saul. I straightened my back and looked at him, horrified. He was going to use Minerva. But Rhys was there.
And June.
“Get ready to launch—”
“Not happening!” Chae Rin raised her hands and the ground began to rumble beneath us, but before she could get started, a gunshot cut her off, the bullet burying itself in her arm.
“Chae Rin!” Lake caught her before she could fall to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Brendan stared at his father, whose gun was still pointed and smoking.
“Saul is making us look . . . look like fools.” Prince’s arm trembled. “The world is watching. We need to take action.”
“The world will watch us destroy a city!”
“The world will watch us save a lot of other cities. We need this. We need this for the Sect. I will not allow this terrorist to crush what I’ve built.”
This was the desperate man who’d shaken hands with political devils at Blackwell’s party, sullying his name if it meant rebuilding the Sect in the eyes of the world. Only here, his desperation was obvious. It curled off of him like the pungent smell of alcohol.
He was willing to kill them. His own son and the girl who shared my face.
Brendan couldn’t conceal his fury. “You won’t let them destroy the Sect you built, but you’ll destroy your son with your own hands.”
“He’s already been branded in front of the world. My son. It’s too late for him.” Prince turned his back to his eldest. “And I . . .”
“No. You don’t care.” I walked forward dazedly, as if in a dream. The face of my sister weighted each of my steps. June was alive. And now both she and Rhys were about to die. All because of this man. All because of him. “You don’t care if your son lives or dies. That’s what you’re trying to say.”
Prince met my gaze defiantly, his back tall with the grim pride of a thousand cowardly fathers before him. “I raised a warrior, not a murderer.”
“You dare be ashamed of him?” Brendan gripped his own gun, still in its holster against his waist. “The way you trained him. The way you brutalized him. Brainwashed him. Did you think he would see the difference?”
Prince’s eyes flashed. “Start the launch.”
“No!”
We all yelled it. Brendan’s gun was pointed at the technicians, but he didn’t know where or who to shoot. I wanted to set everything on fire. My mind was screaming. Rhys, Natalya, June. Ghosts swirled around me, goading me to finish everything. But as my mind conceived of the fire, as my fingers began to spark, I thought of my parents, my sister, being rolled away on stretchers in body bags. I thought of their charred bodies, and my hands gripped my own forehead instead.
June couldn’t be alive.
It had to be a trick Saul was playing.
Psychotic Alice’s sick game. Cruel Nick’s malicious assistance.
It was . . . it was . . .
“Father.” Brendan stumbled back against the terminal, his knees buckling. He fell to the ground. “What have you done?”
“What I had to,” Prince replied coldly.
Nobody said anything.
I could see the digital clock running down from five minutes on the right-hand corner of the screen. Saul didn’t know. Rhys didn’t know. June didn’t know. And no one else still in the city knew. They were going to be hit. They were all going to die.
Someone’s terminal began to beep. “Sir, we’re getting a video call,” said one technician on the other side of the room.
“Patch him in.”
If Director Prince had known that it would be Blackwell’s smug face appearing on the screen, he may not have given the order. The man looked livid as Blackwell rested his elbow on his chair’s armrest and rubbed his forehead, amused and exasperated all at once.
“Arthur,” he said. “I didn’t think you could go through with such a thing. The Council is very disappointed.”
“The Council?” Prince sputtered.
“We’ve been watching the situation closely. I told them you shouldn’t be allowed to handle such a situation, but after all, you are a high-ranking official in the Sect.” Blackwell tapped his fingers against his crossed knee. “Perhaps that was the problem from the beginning.”
The skin hanging on Prince’s chin trembled as he shook with fury. “It was the Council who told me to finish this. Senator Abrams himself told me to take this course of action. I have dealt with Saul. I’ve finally ended this nightmare.”
“And so you have.” Blackwell grinned. “And now I’m dealing with you.”
A troop of police burst through the door behind us. Lake, Chae Rin, Belle, and I scrambled out of the way as they came in fully armed in riot gear, their shields up, their guns pointing at everyone in the room.
“The building is surrounded,” one yelled. “Director Prince Senior and Junior, and all present Sect personnel—you are under arrest for treason and acts of terrorism.”
Both Princes blanched, neither knowing where to move or where to look. Some members of the Communications department already had their hands up in defeat, while some looked as utterly baffled as their leaders standing in front of them.
“Acts . . .” Director Prince stared up at Blackwell. “Acts of terrorism?”
“You made the wrong move this time, Arthur.” Blackwell shook his head with an almost theatrical sweep of his head. “It’s a wonder why Abrams would tell you such a thing. Or how he would get such an awful idea in the first place.”
“Blackwell.” Prince gathered the situation with flaring eyes, his neck reddening by the second. “Did you—”
“Yes, I called the police,” he answered. “And don’t worry, we’ll also be taking Abrams into custody, as well as anyone else in the Council who shared his views. My meetings with various foreign dignitaries have been fruitful indeed. We’ve already decided that the Sect can no longer be allowed to run amok in dealing with affairs that should be in their hands. This latest infraction is just proof that you’re not fit to rule. And your kingdom isn’t fit to stand.”
“We said, put your hands up,” the police officer repeated. “Sir, we will not ask you a third time.”
As more officers spilled into the room and began taking the willing into custody, Blackwell cleared his throat, gathering Prince’s attention again.
“It’s better if you cooperate. As criminals under the law.”
“I am not . . .” Prince’s teeth clenched tight. “I am—”
“What you are, Arthur,” Blackwell began, “is a father willing to kill your own son in order to hold on to the power and reputation your family has given you. A spoiled, sad little boy with blood on his hands.” And he grinned wide. “Like father, like son, I suppose.”
“Effigies! Come with us!”
Several police officers surrounded us, cornering us against the wall. They looked terrified as they pointed their guns at us, one holding out handcuffs with shaking hands. The metal jingled in his grip.
“Yeah,” Chae Rin said. “No.”
Lake sent a gale crashing into them, and before the rest could raise their hands to shoot, Chae Rin broke open a hole in the wall for us to escape through. We leapt out and began running once again down the hall. Belle’s wall of ice sealed the hole after us and blocked off the path so that the other officers in the corridor couldn’t follow. I could hear their gunshots clink against the ice.
“Belle,” I started. “You—”
My next words vanished as I remembered Rhys’s confession. Her devastation. Belle didn’t look back at me as she ran. She didn’t say a word as we made our way through the building.
“Blackwell,” Sibyl said quietly once the communication link was back up. “If he manipulated Director Prince into using Minerva . . . then he was part of this too. A part of Project X19. But all they did was turn the world against the Sect, against the Effigies. Maybe that was the plan all along. Maybe that was Phase III, not the weapon itself.”
“Where can we go?” Lake said once we stopped to catch our breath. “Those police said the building was surrounded!”
“There’s an underground pathway beneath the building that will take you outside the facility,” Sibyl said. “Not many people know about it. You need to leave the city until we can get you transportation to our safe house. Dot, Pete, and Cheryl are all already on their way. Keep going down the hall, and at the first bend, turn left.”
We followed Sibyl’s instructions. My thoughts were racing, blurring pain and confusion together as my legs carried me down stairs, through corridors. We couldn’t stop Saul. We hadn’t stopped Prince. And now Rhys and who knew how many others were dead. And June? It didn’t make any sense. But even if I could piece it together, it was too late to save any of them.
Five minutes had already passed.
“The beam hit.” Uncle Nathan had whispered it. “It . . . the city . . .”
He didn’t need to say anything more. We were failures. And now we were fugitives.
Rhys . . . I’m sorry. Tears stung my eyes. I was broken.
I’d lost someone again.
So many words left unsaid because of my own cowardice. My body felt as if it would collapse into pieces on the floor. I was already haunted by it: his smile, that beautiful smile I would never see again. The boy who’d confessed that he’d fallen in love with me. I wanted to scream, to cry, to curse, to die. But I had to keep going. I had to. He would have wanted me to. I blinked my tears away as Sibyl guided us to a small underground hangar, empty but for two cars. Once again, there were agents waiting.
“From here, we should split up,” Belle suggested suddenly.
“I would advise against that,” Sibyl said. “I don’t understand exactly what I just saw, but people around the world saw Maia Finley, an Effigy, help Saul essentially cause the destruction of a city.”
My stomach lurched. “Uncle Nathan . . .”
“I know. I saw her too.”
He sounded so small. I’m sure he could hear the sob in my voice as I breathed in, trying to keep myself together.
“This is a catastrophe on the level of the Seattle Siege,” Sibyl said. “And in the eyes of the world, the Effigies—the entire Sect is implicated. You have to stay together.”
“We’re fugitives now,” Belle pressed. “They’ll be looking for all four of us. If we split up, it’ll be harder for them to capture us all.”
Sibyl went quiet. But after a moment, she acquiesced with a sigh. “Two per car.”
“Maia.” Belle was already staring at me, the dark circles under her eyes deep and unforgiving. “Come with me.”
I didn’t argue as the agent opened the backseat doors for us.
“Is this really happening?” Lake said. “We’re splitting up?”
The four of us stood in a circle, close together and yet still separated by the chasm of the unknown. Belle was the only one who avoided our gazes. Her bloodshot eyes remained steadfastly low as the rest of us joined hands.
“It’s going to be okay,” I told them, mustering up what little bravery I could through the pits of despair and fear. “It’ll just be for a little while.”
“I don’t have the best feeling about this,” Chae Rin said. “I’m kind of with Sibyl. But maybe splitting up really is the best way to go. In that case . . . well, just don’t get caught. Or killed. Or I’ll be super pissed, okay?”
Lake laughed a little, and the strain in her voice made it obvious that the gesture hadn’t been easy. I felt her squeeze my hand. But when I looked over at Belle, she was still in her own head, staring at the floor. I grabbed her hand, trying to smile. She didn’t look up.
“Okay,” I said, letting go of both girls. “Let’s go. I’ll see you guys again at the safe house.”
“Right, then. See you in a bit!” Lake’s cheerfulness may have been artifice, but it gave me courage like I suspected she’d meant it to.
We entered our own cars and drove out of the hangar, down the underground path, until we surfaced outside the facility. We came to a fork in the road, and there, under the night sky, we separated. I twisted around, watching the other car until it disappeared into the darkness.
“Where are we heading?” I asked carefully.
“The Straits of Dover,” the agent answered, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “We’ll rendezvous with some people who’ll help us cross into France.”
“France,” Belle repeated lifelessly. “My home. The place I was . . . born.”
She fell silent.
I half expected her to be limp against the door again, but this time she was surprisingly stiff. Her back was straight as if held up by a metal rod. Her hands were placed on her lap, her fingers curled at an odd angle against her knees. She said nothing. She didn’t even look at me throughout the almost two-hour drive. The entire time, I kept to my side of the bench, my hand awkwardly gripping my seat belt as I tried to keep my eyes on the antiphantom threads weaving across the highway, keeping us safe from the horrors outside. I made sure my gaze stayed on them. I’d been awake for so many hours I’d lost count. I was running on nothing, but I couldn’t let my eyelids flutter closed like they wanted to. Because if I did, I’d see his face. I’d see Rhys obliterated by a weapon that to him would have looked simply like a beautiful light from above. Before absolution.
I held my sobs in for the ride until we came to the White Cliffs. It was somewhat still under the glow of nearby antiphantom protection, so we didn’t have to worry about phantoms here. But the strait wasn’t protected. The agent had told us to expect a fishing ship coming down the strait. I was sure it would come with its own APD, lest we let the monsters lurking beneath the waves drag us down into the deep with them. We waited patiently for the rendezvous, but after we stood close to the edge of the cliffs for several minutes, nothing showed up.
“They’re late.” The agent checked his watch impatiently.
“Redman.” Belle approached the young man. “I need to speak with Maia.”
Surprised, I turned from looking over the cliffs.
“What?” Redman cocked his head. “Look, miss, I’m sorry, but we’re in a bit of a—”
Belle knocked him out.
“What are you doing?” I yelled as he fell limp over her arm.
Reaching into her ear, she took out his earpiece and crushed it. Before I could move out of the way, she’d grabbed my arm, yanking me close so she could dig out mine as well. She threw both into the strait.
Real fear started to colonize my body. I was backing away from her, away from the cliff, before I’d even realized it. “What are you doing?” I asked again as I watched her throw Redman’s unconscious body to the ground.
“I told you. That man told me many things.” The dark circles cast poisonous shadows under her eyes. “Strange things.”
“The Surgeon?” My feet slid and scuffled across the gravel.
“He said I would always be alone.” Belle’s head was low, but tilted slightly. She’d lost focus again. “I think he was right.”
She began closing the distance between us.
“Belle,” I started, wrapping my arms around myself to keep from shaking. “I don’t know what he did to you. . . .”
But I did. I knew that he’d tortured her physically, mentally, and emotionally. He had twisted her for an entire hour while I was locked in my cell, unable to do anything. Yet what he’d done to her maybe wasn’t as important as what I had done.
“I wanted to believe that he was wrong. That I had finally found friends I could believe in.”
Her blue eyes snapped back into focus and she looked up at me desperately.
“Y-you have,” I said, shaking. “We’re . . . We are friends, Belle.”
“Then, as a friend, let me ask you this.”
I already knew what she would ask. My lips began trembling.
“And as a friend, answer me truthfully.” Belle placed a hand on her stomach, touching a hole through the tears her torturer had made in her shirt. “Did you know?”
Tears stung my eyes once again. “Belle . . .”
“Did you know this entire time?”
What could I say? We’d all heard the confession. The whole world had heard Aidan Rhys admit that he had murdered Natalya.
“Please, Maia.” She was begging me now. “Please, just tell me.”
But I couldn’t. I pressed my lips together to seal up my whimpers. I’d stopped moving, my stomach turning so terribly that I doubled over from the pain. But she was still approaching me.
“Maia, just tell me. Remember . . .”
The wind chilled, snowflakes slipping out from the air around her, gathering by her hand, forming the shape of her sword.
“I’m asking as a friend.”
I saw the edge of the beautiful sword I’d once admired and suddenly, in that moment, I realized that it was Belle who’d suggested we travel in separate cars.
I could lie. I could tell her I hadn’t known. That I’d been as surprised as anyone. But I didn’t want to. The man whose secrets I was protecting was dead. I would never see him again. And I was tired. I was tired of everything.
“Did you know, Maia? That Aidan killed Natalya?”
“I’ve known for a long time.”
She was too fast. The sword came down on my head before I knew what was happening, but by pure instinct alone, I avoided her. She was emotional, too emotional to be precise. That was my advantage. I dodged her clumsy swings, her enraged, sorrowful cries splitting the air. I called my own weapon, my scythe emerging out of a whirl of flame to counteract her strikes, but she pressed me back, back, and back still. It wasn’t until I felt the rocks crumble and fall down from my heel that I realized she’d pinned me against the cliff.
One more swing and she broke my scythe. It dissipated into nothingness.
This was insane. This couldn’t be happening. “Belle, I’m sorry!”
“You knew!” Belle dragged the tip of her sword against the cliffs. “You saw me going through hell. I opened myself to you—to all of you. And you betrayed me!”
“I know!” I put out my hands to stave her fury, to save my own life. The tears were falling freely now, dripping into my lips, down my chin. “I know, and I’m sorry. I was scared. I was scared you would do something crazy!”
“Like kill your lover?” Belle’s hair was a shambles across her face. When she swept it back, I saw her eyes glinting with malevolence, with disdain, with pain. She smiled the mocking grin of a girl who knew her world was over and she had nothing left to lose. “But he’s already dead. It was all for nothing.”
A strangled cry escaped my lips as I thought of him, the pain of his death made real by her malicious words. “It wasn’t just for him. It was for you! Belle, this isn’t you. You’re not a killer. Natalya’s gone, but it’s killing you! It’s twisting you! Natalya wouldn’t—”
She pointed her sword at my heart. “Don’t tell me what Natalya would want,” she said, breathing wildly. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see me. You didn’t see Madame Bisette beat me. You didn’t see Natalya save me. All you saw were heroes. You were never there! You didn’t save me!” She gripped her own head, crying openly. “You betrayed me. You were my friend and you betrayed me! Why? Why?” she shrieked. “Why, Maia? Wh—”
The stream of angry cries died as she looked down and realized what I already knew, what I could already feel.
The elegant tip of her blade pierced through my chest.
She stared at it, her tear-soaked face catching the moonlight. She stared as if she did not understand what it was. As if she didn’t recognize the blood dripping down my stomach, down the edges of my mouth.
It was beyond pain. It was mercy. Numb. Forgiving. The tears continued to slip quietly down my cheeks as my lips quivered, my hands shaking as they reached up to the blade, whose steel surface I’d memorized all those nights I watched clips of her fighting alone in my room, dreaming that her strength was mine. I touched it, the sword that had pierced through my flesh, blood, and bone. As I felt the steel beneath my fingers, my lips parted one last time.
“I . . . just . . .” I sucked in a shaky breath. And then I did the only thing I could. I smiled at her. “I just . . . didn’t want to lose anyone . . . ever again.”
The sword ripped out of me just as a gasp tore out of my throat and into the chilly air. I stumbled back, the stars, the moon, the night spinning and tilting above me until my eyes rolled to the back of my head and darkness washed over me.
The smile never quite left my face as I fell off the cliff and into the waters below.