New World Rising (14 page)

Before I could speak, before I could think any more about it, we were through the doors. The conversation stopped the instant we walked in. Arstid stood in front of her usual chair with her palms pressed to the table. Her face was flushed, her usually perfect hair falling around her face in a random array of white. Maddox stood across from her with Willets and the blonde guard whose name I still didn’t remember. As her eyes fell on my hand in Triven’s, her face tightened. I loosened my grip, but he only constricted his in response.

“Who ordered the mission tonight?” Triven’s voice was like ice. Suddenly no one could meet his eyes, not even Arstid.

“We made the decision without you. It was decided that your judgment might be recently impaired—” Arstid stammered.

“Impaired?” Triven’s voice rose. “The only judgment that seems to be impaired is yours,
Mother
. Since when have we ever sent out a team without the input of the entire council?”

The word mother was like a slap in the face. Why hadn’t I seen it before? Triven wasn’t just a well-spoken youth his peers looked up to. He was the heir to The Subversive. Every glare Arstid threw our way, every time Maddox had backed down from a fight now made sense. I should have been angry that he never told me, but in all fairness I never asked. I also understood him enough now to know it wasn’t about lying to me about who his mother was, it was about being seen as a man within the community and not just their leader’s son. While I stared with enlightenment at Arstid and Triven, the others shamefully averted their eyes.

“You sent our men out, without our best team to protect them, without the proper planning and look what it has cost us! Your stubborn prejudice has cost two of our own their lives. And for what?! Weapons we don’t need? All because you can’t see past your own hate? There will be no more missions without the full council’s knowledge, do you understand? You are our leader,
not
our ruler and you would do well to remember that.”

Arstid paled. I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or because her only son had just pulled rank on her.

“Everyone out, I need to speak to my son alone.” Her usually strong voice quavered.

The other members of the guard did not hesitate. As I turned to follow them out, Triven’s hand tightened on mine. “Phoenix stays.”

Arstid’s lips whitened to match her face, disappearing into a thin line.

She seethed, glaring at me. “I was foolish enough to trust her mother, I will not be the fool twice. This is all their fault! Her parents lead us here, lead your father to his—”

I cut her off.

"It's easy to blame the dead, isn't it? Seeing as how they can't defend themselves." My words were harsh, malice coating every syllable. A twisted pleasure blossomed as I watched the words slap Arstid's face. But even with that pleasure, a seed of doubt was still infiltrating my mind.
What if she was right?

A spasm of pain flickered across Triven’s face.

I took a deep breath and pressed my palm to his arm. “It’s okay, I’ll go.”

He nodded at me and to both Arstid’s shock and mine, he pressed his lips to my forehead before releasing my hand. As soon as the door closed behind me I was in motion. I bolted down the empty hall and darted into a cleaning closet I had seen once before. Scaling the shelves with familiar ease, I pressed against the air vent. Relief washed over me as it gave way and I slipped inside. Though it had been nearly two months since I had been in an airshaft, years of practiced movement rekindled instantly. I moved quickly and silently through the dust coated metal. Triven’s deep voiced carried through the shaft giving me guidance. In less than a minute I was hovering above the round table watching Arstid’s snow-white head through the slits.

“How dare you undermine me in front of—”

Triven interrupted her. “I was simply reminding you of what you seemed to have forgotten. We are not a Tribe, Mother, nor are we part of The Sanctuary. Years ago, it was agreed that we would be a democracy of equals. You were the one who pushed so hard for that. Or have you forgotten what you and Dad sacrificed so much for?”

She recoiled, stung before lashing back. “Do
not
bring your father up to me. Of course I know what I sacrificed for. Sometimes I think you are the one who forgets. You were too young to remember, too young to understand—”

“But I’m not too young now.” His tone softened a little. “I am not a child anymore. I am a peer, a leader in this community and you owe me that respect.”

She scoffed and sank into her chair. “Respect? Please. You can barely see past your own nose these days. That impetuous little street brat has you so wrapped up you can’t see what is good for yourself much less your own people any more. I know what happened in the alley. She may have saved Archer but that rage she possesses makes her a threat. Phoenix is like a wild dog, Triven. She may turn on you at any moment. It is foolish to trust her.”

Pain stabbed my heart. She was right.

“Then I am a fool.” Triven’s words only drove the knife deeper.

“She can't stay here.” Arstid’s voice wavered as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“If she goes, I go. She needs us even if she doesn't know it yet. She needs our help as much as we need hers.” His voice was still strong.

“Triven…” Arstid faltered and he went in for the kill.

“We promised we would help all those in need. By your own creed she has the right to be here just as much as the rest of us. She may look like her mother to you but she is not. Phoenix is a different person. The only one who can’t see that is you. She stays or we both go.”

I retreated from my hiding place as their voices continued. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I couldn’t stand to hear the trust in Triven’s voice any longer, the compassion. He was wrong and for the first time Arstid and I agreed. I was a danger to him. Why couldn’t he see that? Despite his amorous words, a prideful anger built in me. I didn’t need them. I didn’t need to stay here with them, to be protected by their walls and charitable handouts. I had survived by myself for six years. Screw them for thinking I needed them. I needed no one.

I pushed past people in the halls as I made my way back to our room. I made eye contact with no one, all niceties gone. It didn’t matter. My hands flew over my few belongings, stuffing everything unceremoniously into my tattered bag. In my haste I dropped my father’s pocket watch and it bounced under the bed. Cursing, I dropped to my knees. As my fingertips searched, I came across something stuffed under the corner of the bed. I grabbed it, along with the familiar chain of my watch and yanked. My heart sputtered.

It was a small piece of paper with a child’s drawing on it. Three scribbled figures were smiling up at me. Mouse had drawn a picture of us. A little girl stood in the middle holding hands with a taller blonde girl and a tall sandy haired boy with hazel eyes. The word family was scrawled beneath it. My eyes burned.

“I assume you heard most of our conversation.”

I hadn’t heard him come in, but he was standing in the doorway watching me. His warm eyes waited as he leaned against the doorframe. I crumpled the drawing and shoved it into the backpack with my other things.

“Please don’t leave.” He whispered. My heart ripped as I kept my back to him. “I should have told you sooner that Arstid was my mother, but I didn’t want you to see me as nothing more than her son. Besides, she stopped being my mother years ago. I don’t agree with her about any of it. She’s wrong.”

I shook my head.

“She’s right. I am a danger to all of you. I’m not good at working with others, you said it yourself. I’m not loyal to anyone.” I kept putting things in my bag, ignoring the pain growing in my chest. I turned to leave and ran into his chest.

“Move.” I said staring at his shoulder.

“No.”

“
Move
.”

“No.”

I could feel the rage building in me. Why was he being so stubborn? Why couldn’t he see how wrong I was for him? For everyone here? They would all be better off without me, even Mouse.
I wanted them. I knew that now. I wanted people to love me. The drawing crumpled in my bag proved that. I
wanted
them, but I didn’t
need
them.

“I don’t need you, you know. Despite what you said to Arstid I don’t
need
your help. I don’t need anyone.” I hoped the words would sting, that he would finally feel hurt and let me go. Last night had been a mistake. I had let him get too close. I stepped to the side but he moved with me.

“I know, Prea.” He whispered my name and I froze, teetering on my thin emotional ledge. “I know that you don’t need me, but I need you. Despite what Arstid says
we
need you.”

My shoulders began to sag and he pressed on, taking advantage of my weakness. “You are strong and fearless and the kind of person we need on our side. If you won’t stay for me, then stay for her. Mouse will be lost without you. She needs you. Without you she is just another child abandoned in Tartarus.”

That was a low blow.

I pressed my head to his shoulder. I wanted to stay. I should leave. I wanted Mouse to be safe, to have the life I didn’t. I didn’t want her to be like me, but I didn’t want to abandon her like my parents had done to me.

“For her.” I said closing my eyes as I let Triven take the bag from my shoulder.

I PRESSED MY
fingers to my temples. My head was pounding as the voices blurred around me. We had spent another day trapped in the meeting room listening to the council members squabble with one another. Since the botched acquisition mission, faith in Arstid’s leadership seemed to falter. Odder still, people were starting to listen to me. A plan had been set in motion before I joined their little assembly, but without a way into The Sanctuary it had come to a screeching halt. To most of the council involved, it felt like a setback, but to me it seemed like an opportunity.

The Subversive had spent the last six years recruiting fallen Tribesman and training them. They now knew the inside workings of every Tribe, every Tribe but one. The one I wanted to see fall more than any other. The one I seemed to know the most about.  Who knew all of my vengeful thieving would actually yield something other than vindictive gratification.

There was no question now that the Ravagers had a link to The Sanctuary. The question now was were they merely stealing or was The Sanctuary supporting them? Those hot-headed members like Archer and Maddox needed no further proof than the weapons we discovered and wanted to launch a blind attack on the Ravagers. They felt the best way to wage a war was to pull the trigger first. Others, like Veyron and Willets, reverted back to their Adroit roots and sought more information before wanting to get their hands dirty. They felt a war was best started with knowledge and a strategy. The resulting disagreement was what made my head hurt.

Everyone’s head swiveled to me. Someone had just asked me a question, but I wasn’t listening.

“What do you think?” Arden raised his eyebrows, awaiting my answer. Instead of admitting my inattention, I spoke the thoughts running through my own mind.

“Bickering about this isn’t getting us anywhere. We don’t have enough information to act but we can’t just sit around waiting for something to happen. The Ravagers may be Id-driven monsters, but they are not fools. They must know we are moving against them now. It’s not just them either. Something in the city is changing. All of the Tribes have become restless. That attack the other night in the alley was no coincidence. You are not as invisible as you used to be. The Tribes know you’re here and they won’t let you slip by unscathed. You are a band of deserters and miscreants to them. If you think you have seen their wrath, you haven’t seen anything yet. If they catch up to you, pray you are killed and not captured.

“With that said, I think we need to split off into small groups, bring less attention to ourselves. There’s safety in numbers, but not when you are trying to keep a low profile. Teams of two or three need to start scouting the city, watching the Tribes’ movements. I have a few allies outside of the Tribes that I can call on. The time has come to take action. I have safe houses located throughout the city that are conveniently located near the Tribes’ dens. I suggest we use them.”

“You mean stay out there?” Willets looked at me with blatant disbelief.

“Yes. Hiding in here will yield you nothing. If you want a revolution then you need to start acting like soldiers. Thieving weapons will only get you so far. It’s time you started using them or the Tribes will continue to pick us off one by one. You need to start not only fighting back, but also picking the fights. The key is turning them against each other.  Tensions between the Tribes are already at a breaking point, we just need to give them the final push.”

Archer perked up. “You mean setting up other Tribes for our attacks?”

“No one knows better than you how the Wraiths fight, who better to falsify one of their attacks than a former Tribesman?”

“I won’t murder people. I am not like
them
.” Archer bristled.

“I’m not asking you to murder anyone. I am saying destroy some food supplies, burn a few vacant meeting locations, and leave marks on claimed territories. It doesn’t take a death to frame another Tribe.”

“And while the Tribes war with one another, the Ravagers will be easier to infiltrate.” Triven followed my train of thought.

“Exactly.” I nodded at him.

A murmur of appreciation filtered through the room. Only Arstid remained frozen as she avoided my eyes. I could hear the plans begin to emerge as they spoke. Old Tribesmen leaned into one another, comparing their thoughts. The few survivors from The Sanctuary looked slightly lost as their counterparts interacted.

“All those in favor?” Triven’s voice carried over the din.

“Aye!” Over half of the room shouted in unison.

We had a plan.

MOUSE’S EYES BLURRED
with tears, but she didn’t let a single one fall. Triven and I had packed for four days. Several of our elected groups were already spread throughout the city, wreaking havoc on the tainted citizens of Tartarus. Our plan was working. Tribes were beginning to attack each other. And with my knowledge of the Ravagers, many of the Tribe wars were effectively blamed on them. It seemed an uprising was indeed brewing and it smelled like revolution. The other members of The Subversive had done their part, now it was our turn.

Triven and I were to gather information. I had a few allies in the outside world that could prove useful. There was one in particular I needed to speak to, but trust was not something you could earn from him. In my pack I carried three titanium knives, a heat-seeking gun and a motion-sensor bomb. They were most of what the ambushed recon party had stolen from the Ravagers. They seemed heavy in my pack. Their weight was a constant reminder that I had not confided their presence to Triven. Mouse’s drawing was also stuffed in my bag as a reminder to come back. It bothered me that such a sweet drawing was currently pressed against a lethal bomb. That alone was a sick reminder why I was doing this.

Mouse held my hand as we moved towards one of the escape hatches. She knew we would be gone for a few days and I could see the fear in her eyes that she understood we might not come back. To be honest, that thought scared me too. As I glanced down at the orphaned child holding my hand, it still shocked me how much she had changed my life. When we reached the door I crouched down to her level, taking her hands in mine.

“We will be back in a few days.”

She nodded, her eyes welling with tears again. She stuck out her first two fingers on each hand and moved her fists together in a circular motion. She was telling me something in sign language. I felt horrible for not having studied that book harder.

Triven came to my rescue, squatting down beside us. “We will, you be careful too. Listen to Veyron, okay?”

“And don’t let Maribel get you into any trouble.” I added, thinking of her boisterous friend.

Mouse threw her arms around my neck and squeezed tightly. I clutched her in return, my tiny lifeline. I swallowed hard as she hugged Triven and took Veyron’s hand.

“Take care of her.” I didn’t mean for it to sound like a threat, but it did. Okay, maybe I meant it just a little.

Mouse’s brave face tore at me more than her tears. She was strong, like me, but I hated it. She should be playing happily with her friends, not worrying that two people she loved might die. I turned and headed for the door before her tears could trigger my own.

The night air felt stale when we reached the rooftop. I turned my face toward the grey-green sky, willing it to wash away all of the worry and guilt weighing me down. If I wanted to survive the next four days I needed a clear mind. I could feel Triven close behind me, careful as always not to touch me unless I initiated it. I wanted to lean back to feel his chest pressed to my back, warm and sturdy, but I didn’t.
Clear head
I reminded myself.

“Where are we going first?” Triven asked.

“To see The Master.” I turned to face him. “I need you to keep up with me. It’s imperative you don’t ask questions and don’t fall behind. When we get there… he is a little… unorthodox. He will try to kill us, especially you. He is not kind to those he doesn’t know. Protect yourself, I can handle my own. Whatever you do, don’t kill him.”

If Triven was worried he didn’t show it.

I turned my back on him and gave him one last warning. “Don’t let him kill you either.”

I never had to look back to see if Triven was following me or not. His feet were as silent as mine, but I could feel him. Our other counterparts had done their jobs. Unlike most nights, the city wasn’t quiet. Pillars of swirling smoke rose in various sectors and random gunfire could be heard echoing through the streets. Tartarus was at war again and this time it was our hands that fired first. The Subversive was still unseen, but we were no longer hiding.

My feet slowed as we reached The Master’s hideout. He had taken over a huge old building that had some kind of vault in its basement. I had seen it once when I was younger. The door was nearly a foot thick with three-inch thick bars that protruded out of it when engaged by a wheel on the front. Mostly I remember the sound— it was so final when that door shut. Like it would never open again. This was the room I hoped to see today. Inside was a collection of weapons and gadgets that could rival the Ravagers. I was pretty sure there was also something more valuable there. Maps. Maps of the city before The Devastation, which were supposedly lost. As well as maps of The Sanctuary, which were worth more than my weight in weapons. I vaguely remembered them on the wall, hidden behind plated glass. I only hoped my memory was not playing tricks on me.

I could see his building three roofs ahead of ours. Surely he knew of our presence already. Now it was just waiting for him to make the first move. I felt the ground beneath us shake as something exploded a few miles away, a new plume of smoke rising. Triven hesitated behind me. I hissed though my teeth to keep him moving.

My ears registered the sound before my other senses could. I dropped and kicked Triven’s feet out from beneath him. The knife barely nicked his left ear as he went down. No sooner had his back hit the ground, he was rolling onto his feet again. Three more knives pierced the night, one narrowly missing my head and two others imbedding themselves into my backpack as I twisted away. I dropped the bag— its weight making me feel unbalanced— as my hands moved to my weapons.

I barely had my knife out of its holster before his first blow landed. Something reminiscent of a foot struck my chest forcing the air from me. My body recoiled backwards as my feet flipped upwards. Tucking with the momentum, I rolled back over my shoulder into a crouch. I could hear more collisions of flesh, like meat hitting meat. Triven was now engaging him. A body flew past mine, grunting as it hit the tar, and I sprang back into the fight.

I had forgotten how fast The Master moved. How hard it was to follow, to predict him, but I held my ground. Blood was trickling down my nose, the coppery taste catching on my lips. There was an opening as his left hand moved for another knife. With a quick thrust I smashed my fist into his exposed nose. It crunched beneath my hand. As I drew back something hard collided with the side of my head causing my left eye to go black. When I blinked again my face was against the rooftop. Feet were dancing in and out of my sightline and it took me a minute to remember who they belonged to. I forced my feet back into submission underneath me and rose unsteadily.

Triven was on the ground now, a taller and leaner man sitting astride his half-conscious body. The knife pressed into his throat was trailing a thin line of blood as The Master pushed against Triven’s restraining hands. Triven was managing to keep the blade from sinking in deeper, but just barely.