New World Ashes (21 page)

Together.

I hugged her close to my chest. She was so small. Triven and I shared a weighted look over her shoulder and I knew his conscience was aching with regret just as much as mine. We could not condemn her to our fate, but we couldn’t leave her here either. Neither path was what we would have chosen for her.

For nearly an hour, the three of us sat holed up in our barren room talking strategies. Surprisingly, I missed the council at the Subversive. Making decisions that only affected yourself were easy, but making decisions that could affect an entire city—our entire world—felt like smashing my head against a brick wall. No option was without risk. No option was the perfect choice. People were going to die. We were just trying to minimize the casualties. The cost, however, could be our own lives.

Mouse tapped my shoulder, signing to me again. I had let my mind wander and missed her last words. She stuck out her index fingers and thumbs, like guns. Pointing her fingertips at each other, she swept her hands up her torso to her chest.

Survive.

I shook my head, grabbing her hands to keep them from continuing. “Yes, self-preservation is the core objective of the Tribes. But they have never played nice together before. I don’t see how we can change that now.”

Triven spoke from his seat leaning against the closed door. “You’re right, they haven’t. But their survival depends on it this time. No matter what the Tribes choose to do, The Wall is coming down. And if they don’t pick a side, the only thing guaranteed at the end of this war will be their eradication. If the Ministry and the Ravagers take control, they don’t stand a chance against their weapons, not alone.”

Exasperated, I threw my hands in the air then folded my head in my arms. “I agreed to a fool’s errand, Triven. We
can’t
unite them. They will never listen to reason.”

“If they would possibly listen to anyone, you are our best bet. You’re a product of both worlds, but their world raised you. You understand the Tribes better than anyone. You watched them when they thought no one was looking. If anyone can make them listen, it’s you. You are not a Tribe deserter or a Sanctuary citizen or a Subversive member or a rebel—you are every one of these things and yet none of them. You have been reborn time and again into each of those roles and you survived. You have done what the rest of us struggle with. You adapt. You change. That’s how you endure. You are unlike anything they have seen before.”

“Your flattering words still don’t change the fact that I was not meant to lead, Triven. There is a reason lone wolves don’t join the pack. I am good with my fists, not words.”

He chortled, “True, making friends was never really your strong suit.”

I twisted and threw a pillow at his face. He caught it, looking more serious as he pulled it into his lap. “I will be your voice, if you want me to be.”

“And if words don’t work?” I asked.

“And if words don’t work, then we may have to kill anyone who stands against us.” His eyes hardened as he spoke. Triven was never one for killing. He injured but rarely killed his assailants. The severity of his words made everything too real.

I gathered Mouse’s small hands in mine and held her gaze. “This is insane isn’t it?”

She nodded slowly, pursing her lips.

“We
have
to do this don’t we?”

Mouse nodded again, sadly signing.
Yes.
Help them. Help us. Survive.

I bowed my head, resting it against my knee. I had wanted her to say no, to tell me it was okay to turn my back on everyone, but I knew she wouldn’t. Mouse was like the moral compass I had ignored for so many years. But I couldn’t ignore her now. Still, I also didn’t think I could do this. Fight—yes. Hide—yes. Survive—yes. But lead? It brought on a new emotion for me—I doubted myself and for the first time feared what the future might hold.

Two tiny hands wound around my cheeks, pulling my face back up to hers.

You promised.

“I said I would
try
.” I corrected her.

Try harder.

I pulled Mouse into my lap, cradling her small frame in my arms. Taking a weighted breath, I turned to Triven. “I never thought I would say this, but we need to speak to your mother.”

DEATH…

Equals freedom…

Equals sweet reprieve…

I had contemplated this equation so many times in my life. Despite my persistent will to survive, it seemed my mind could never escape those thoughts. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since I told Ryker we were leaving. Twenty-four hours of restless, anxious planning. Still we heard nothing from our rebel counterparts. The waiting was eating at me from the inside out—crawling under my skin and boring into my brain. Triven understood my need to escape—to think—when I left in the middle of the night seeking reprieve from our four smothering walls.

My bare toes hung over the edge of the rooftop’s ledge, toying with the open air, careful not to reach past the holographic field. I took a deep steadying breath as the simulated wind swept across my skin. If I closed my eyes, if I shut out the serene sounds from below, it almost felt like I was back at home on the rooftops of Tartarus. My eyes popped open.

Home?

When had that hellhole become home?

My head twitched as the hatch door opened, but I didn’t take my eyes off the empty streets below.

Ryker’s baritone broke the night air. “You know there are better ways to kill yourself. The least you could do is make it seem like a sacrifice for liberty.” He paused next to me leaning over the edge to appraise the height. “You’d have to find a higher building though.”

He was in his soldier’s uniform tonight. The white suit, adorned with the silver bars appeared to glow with an eerie aura in the still darkening night air.

“I thought my job was to die uniting the Tribes for you, not jumping off a building.” I turned and hopped soundlessly down from the ledge. Folding my arms across my chest, I gave him a bitter smile.

His gaze turned hard. “Your
job
is to do what the rest of us cannot. To tip the scales in our favor… and to come back to us.” He thawed, pinching his forehead. “We all have to make sacrifices. We can’t selfishly protect the ones we love at the risk of losing hundreds of others.”

“You have a funny way of showing people you care for them.” I said coldly.

“And you have a bad habit of pretending like you don’t need people.” There was a bite in his tone. “I’m
not
sorry I kissed you.”

“I get the feeling you’re
not
sorry for a lot of things you do.” I bit back.

He leaned back against the ledge and swept his fingers through his hair, a habit I now recognized as a sign of his exasperation.

“There never was any winning with you.” Ryker took a deep breath. Folding his arms, he slumped, curving his shoulders around himself. “We have moved up our timeline to accommodate your escape. As you saw, the streets are teeming with soldiers and security measures have increased. It will be nearly impossible to move the three of you without a distraction.”

“What about the devices you and I wore the other day?” I asked.

“No.” Ryker was already shaking his head. “We can’t have three citizens disappear from one place just to pop up a mile away. There are too many cameras now for someone not to notice. Besides, The Minister is watching for a male and female traveling with a child. Families are being stopped regularly for questioning. It’s too high of a risk.”

I toed the rooftop. “So what
are
our options?”

“You will be moved throughout the day to several rebel safe houses. Each location will move you closer to the drop point. We have strategically planned each stopping point to align with that rebel’s schedule. That way, no red flags will go up if one of us is missing for too long. Each rebel will make themselves publicly seen throughout the day to ensure they are not under suspicion when the feed goes live.”

“Feed?” I looked up, questioning him. It clicked before he could answer. “The video of me.”

Ryker confirmed, “Yes. Well, one of them at least. We are hacking the system through an untraceable remote. Thaddeus and Zeek have been working for the last three months securing it. Our hope is that it will cause enough of a distraction to allow your escape. This video will be the first public appearance the rebels have made. Ever. There won’t be any going back after that.”

I stared at his feet. The leather boots were shined to perfection. Our reflections mirrored us, two ghostly pale faces distorted in the dark.

“And where will
you
be when the feed airs?” I inclined my head, waiting for his answer.

“By The Minister’s side of course.” His voice was controlled, but something was off in his tone.

“Better to sit beside the throne than be crushed beneath it.” I repeated Ryker’s own words back to him.

“As it is better to deceive from within, than to attack with a blind eye.” He chortled humorlessly, then sobered up as the silence dragged on between us. “In less than forty-eight hours, we will have done what no one else has. We will have made an official proclamation of war against The Sanctuary.”

He shifted and I could sense his tension.

Planning a war was one thing, but actually starting one meant putting gears into motion that could not be stopped. Selfishly, I was glad that task had not fallen on me. I did not envy Ryker for the choices he had to make. While we were still at the Subversive theorizing strategies, Ryker and the rebels were preparing to take action. They had always been leaps and bounds ahead of us. Our well thought-out plans now looked liked child’s play compared to their strategies of warfare.

I understood now, more then ever, that we needed allies to survive this looming war. The time for being a loner was over. The Subversive would gladly fall in line to ensure their survival, but could I really expect the Tribes to see it the same way? Could I make them understand that when The Wall fell, they would have to sacrifice a few to save the many? The real question was how do you unite people who have spent the last decade killing each other? The answer—give them a common enemy. I knew that, but getting others to fear or hate something they had never even heard of would be nearly impossible.

I had never actually chosen to start a war. Sought change, destruction, vengeance? Yes. But as with most shortsighted people demanding change, I did not realize what must be sacrificed in order to gain it. Dictators did not just roll over and give up. Freedom only comes at a high cost. The truth—wars were not started by the masses. Wars were started by a few men—men who could rarely foresee
all
of the consequences of their actions. They saw a means to an end. Everything else in between was merely collateral damage.  And the rest of us—the ones caught in the middle—we are left to choose sides or bury our heads in the sand. Either way, we would be swallowed by a war we did not start, but were required to finish.

Ryker cleared his throat, recalling my attention. “Inessa is downstairs. She was looking for you. I suppose she wanted a word before you left.”

“Mmmm,” I nodded, not bothering to correct him that I was actually the one who had asked for her.

“I have another favor to ask of you,” he asked with a careful tenor.

“What, possibly sacrificing my life isn’t enough? Let me guess, you want my soul now too?” I leveled him with a well-practiced glare.

The corner of his thin lips pulled up. “Not quite. It’s more about your expertise…”

My eyes narrowed.

“The largest group of rebels we have ever risked having together at one time, will be in the training room tomorrow night.” He shifted, turning his insightful stare on me. “I cannot be there because I will be preparing for your escape. I was hoping you could train them in my absence. Teach them some things I have overlooked.”

My eyebrows rose. “You actually think I can teach them something you haven’t?”

“I would love nothing more than to say when you beat me the other day, it was because I let you. But that would be a lie.” He bowed his head looking uncharacteristically humble, before returning to face me. “You are still the only person I cannot best. If anyone can teach them something I have not, it would be you.”

The look of admiration in his eyes made me uncomfortable. I turned away, staring at the street below. It confused me that while I certainly had no romantic feelings for Ryker, I didn’t exactly hate him either. Was this what it was like to have a friend… or maybe even a brother? Five soldiers were patrolling the neighborhood. Their guns glinted in the darkness, reflecting back the houses’ porch lights.

“What time?” I asked staring at the soldiers.

“Mae will bring you there after dinner.” Ryker turned following my gaze. We watched the silver uniformed team in the forced stillness of the night air.

“I should find Inessa.” I said pushing away from the roof’s edge. Ryker nodded but did not move, still watching the guards. I turned, beginning to walk away, but Ryker’s voice stopped me just as I reached the roof’s hatch.

“I will see you the morning of your transport. I will see to it that everything is prepared and you are returned to Tartarus safely. After that, you are on your own.” He still had his back turned to me.

“Got it.” I replied. As I slipped my foot onto the first step, he spoke again. When I glanced up his head was twisted back, his strong jaw brushing his shoulder as he spoke.

“There isn’t room for failure.”

I turned away and continued down the steps. “I know.”

INESSA WAS WAITING
for me in the main room of the house with two cups of steaming liquid already perched on the table in front of her. Her prematurely weathered faced glowed as I approached. A glimmer of a younger woman showed beneath her wrinkled eyes when she smiled. It was lovely.

It dawned on me how beautiful and unmarred the people of The Sanctuary appeared. No scars or limbs lost telling of battles survived or years won. But I also knew some scars could not be seen. Despite her exquisitely aged beauty, I could see still the deep sadness that lingered in Inessa’s eyes. It faded at times, but never truly went away. Some scars are too deep for flesh to heal.

I picked up the steaming mug and took a sip, letting it warm my body as I thought over my words. Inessa waited patiently, sipping at her own cup. Her smile was serene.

“I realize that I have not always been the most…
receptive
person to your kindness.” I paused. Being nice took so much thought and energy. “You must understand that kindness is not something that I am accustomed to…  but I’m trying.”

Inessa nodded, encouraging me to continue. The house felt heavy with an abundance of silence. I took another sip of the sweet water.

“We are leaving in less than two days and there are still some things I need to understand before we go. Things I have a right to know. I have made commitments I can no longer rescind. And after we talk tonight, I must only focus on the future. While we can learn from the past, dwelling in it will not save us. There are so many people here eager to give me their renditions of the past, but I don’t want interpretations. I want the truth. I want to know beyond a doubt why I’m choosing to fight with you.”

Inessa spoke for the first time. I had nearly forgotten how soft her voice was. “The ghosts from our past will haunt us everyday if we let them. Even drive us insane if not dealt with—if they go on misunderstood. One thing your mother taught me was that
true
knowledge is power, but
assumed
knowledge can be fatal. Unfortunately my child, most truths are nothing but interpretations. However, ask me anything you like and I will do my best to provide you with an honest, unbiased answer.”

I smiled at Inessa for the first time, letting down my walls just a little, allowing her to see the person I kept so tightly bound inside. It was the only gift of thanks I had to offer her. I also hoped taking down that wall would allow me to hear her words without bias. Keeping people out was so much easier than letting them in.

The smile fell away as I asked my first question. It was the one I had to get out of the way, the one that could hurt the most. The one that had plagued me since my arrival here. “If my parents loved me, why did they give me to that monster for so many years?”

Inessa’s eyes closed for a moment. Her soft face pinched with pain. There was regret in her voice as she spoke, but only truth spilled from her tongue. “They led The Minister to believe that you were a peace offering—an olive branch to soothe the years of a bad relationship. Jutta claimed she wanted to keep the power in the family. And at the time your grandfather was so desperate for a blood heir, he never considered that you were offered to him as a distraction. And so while his focus became tigerishly focused on you, the rebels were watched less closely.”