Unraveled (2 page)

“Why can’t you see her?” I ask.

“What do Tailors do, Adelice?” He leans toward me, egging me on.

“They alter objects, and implant and erase memories,” I say.

“And?”

The answer is so obvious that it hits me like a well-thrown brick. “They change appearances.”

“I don’t know how far you’ve come with your alteration abilities. I know you can unwind,”
he says. Cormac witnessed me removing Kincaid’s time strand on Alcatraz, revealing
my newfound abilities to him. Now I wish I had let them fight their own battle instead
of getting involved.

“I can’t alter my appearance,” I tell him, realizing that Cormac was warning Hannox
that I might try to take his appearance and trick them into releasing Amie. “If I
could, wouldn’t I have done it before now? To avoid capture?”

“You had access to some of the most talented Tailors we’ve ever lost to the rebellion,”
Cormac says with a shrug. “I assumed you were too vain up until now.”

“And now?”

“I think you were stupid. You could have taken anyone else’s appearance.”

What Cormac doesn’t understand is that no good would have come from altering myself
to become someone else. Arras’s threat to Earth would still have existed, my sister
would still be under Cormac’s control, and I would still be hiding. Right now, being
myself is my best asset, because Cormac seems eager to work with me.

“Do you have her bound as well?” I ask, bringing the subject back around to Amie.
I picture her locked in a cell deep in the belly of the ship.

“I’m not scared of
Amie
,” Cormac says. “She won’t even know she’s under safekeeping. I would guess she’s
reading the
Bulletin
or playing with her digifile. There are perks, you know, to being well behaved.”

“I find being well behaved is overrated.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” he says. “In any case, she is secure. You can’t
reach her without risking her life. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” I mutter.

Cormac stretches toward me and swipes an access card across the blue light. It blinks
red. Cormac removes the gages and tosses them next to my food tray. My dented flesh
aches as I splay my fingers wide, cracking and popping the joints in my hands.

This is my chance.

I could run for it. This aeroship will be equipped with tethering gear and rappelling
equipment. I could easily take out the guards, even Cormac, now that I have the use
of my hands, and there’s a good possibility I could even make it to the surface. I
could make it back to Erik.

But returning to Earth only puts everyone I love in more danger. It’s better to stay
here and worm my way back into Cormac’s good graces.

“How adorable.” He traces a finger over my techprint. “The mark of Kairos. Souvenir?”

Despite Cormac’s near-constant attention, it’s the first time he’s noticed the mark.

“I’ve had it for a long time,” I say in a measured tone. I could brag more, talk about
my rebel parents, but I know that could place Amie in more danger. Cormac is only
trusting when he thinks he has total control. I can’t risk that now.

“We’ll have it removed, of course,” he says.

I silently hope that he forgets about it. I don’t want the small reminder of my past
stripped from me. I pick up a fork and run it through a pile of mashed yams.

Cormac watches me over the rim of his highball. “This reminds me of our first meal
together.”

“Getting sentimental?” I ask, bringing a small bite to my lips and hating myself a
little for feeling hungry, hating myself for accepting food from him. Even hunger
feels like a weakness. I want him to fear me.

“You barely ate that day either,” he says, swirling the amber liquid. “We had potential
then, you and I. I’m afraid only one of us is living up to it.”

I snort and allow myself to take a second, larger bite. My first meal with Cormac
was at Nilus Station on the night of my retrieval, when the Guild came to take me
away to become a Spinster. He had insisted that I eat that night, too. I hadn’t been
sure if Cormac would become a friend or not that night. One moment he seemed to want
to earn my trust and the next he was threatening me. Now I knew the truth. Cormac
Patton, now the prime minister of Arras, would work any angle he could to get me on
his side. He made my own mother into a monster. He altered my friend to follow me.
He even brainwashed my sister, Amie, into buying his idea of a perfect world. All
while he stripped Earth of its fundamental elements in order to build Arras into an
empire. I know he’s going to destroy both worlds unless I can convince him to find
a peaceful solution. Or I finally figure out how to destroy him.

Whichever comes first.

“I still have potential,” I say finally. “And I’m ready to use it.”

“A threat?” Cormac raises his eyebrows as he takes a draft of his bourbon.

“A
truce
.” It sounds strange coming from my lips, but I know this is exactly what he wants
to hear. If I’m smart I can use Cormac like he’s used me, but only if I play my cards
right.

“You never stop surprising me, Adelice Lewys.” Admiration colors his voice, and I
feel dirty.

“I’ve had time to think,” I say, pushing my true feelings aside. “I understand now
that compromises must be made to help both worlds.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

I muster up a smile for him. This is how I’ll get what I need. Earn his trust until
he slips up or gives in. I can do this. I have to.

“There’s one last order of business I need to discuss with you.” Cormac reaches inside
his tuxedo jacket and I stiffen.

“No need to be afraid,” he says. “You’re right that a truce is exactly what will bring
these worlds together. And what better way of sealing our commitment to this compromise
than by truly committing to each other?”

A small velvet box rests in his palm and my eyes fly to his, every bit of me willing
him not to open it. But his thumb flips up the lid to reveal a ring.

“I told you before that I needed a wife,” Cormac says, placing the box on the table.

“I heard you found one,” I mumble. I abandon my fork and my meal to stare at the delicate
curve of the golden band and the overlarge diamond cushioned in the center.

Cormac said we would work together, but I hadn’t thought he meant this. Not after
everything that’s happened.

“She was deemed unsuitable in more ways than one.” Cormac leans forward, steepling
his fingers thoughtfully. His cold black eyes stay on me.

“Maela?” I assume. She was the person most likely to ascend to the position, and the
person most likely to fly into a murderous fit of rage and lose her chance. I’d seen
her instability more than once while she lorded over my training at the Coventry.
I relied on it during my escape, when I couldn’t reach Erik by myself. I let her push
him into the tear I had created. All I had to do was mention kissing him.

“Never,” he said with a groan. “She’s too … eager.”

“She’s too cunning,” I correct him.

“Either way, Maela would be a poor candidate for the position.” Cormac laughs as though
we’re playing a new game.

I’d suspected from my interactions with her at the Coventry that something had gone
wrong between Cormac and Maela. Now I’m certain I was right. I’d been on the bad end
of Maela’s temper while I was under her watch. She had often abused her position training
the incoming Eligibles. I can’t imagine the destruction she’d have caused as Cormac’s
wife.

But if it wasn’t Maela, that left a frightening possibility.

“Not my … sister?” I ask, dreading his answer.

“Much too young,” Cormac says. It should be reassuring that he sees her this way,
but I also know this means Amie is still the same giddy girl who mooned over a bakery
cake on my retrieval night. And Cormac has been molding her—altering her—for over
a year to trust him and the Guild.

“I had an arrangement with Pryana,” Cormac admits, drawing a long breath that says,
I’m guilty
. “My men—”

“Your Tailors.”

“My Tailors,” he says, barely missing a beat, “thought they could splice her with
Loricel’s genetic material. But she’s never shown the natural talent Loricel—or you—had.”

“Pity,” I say carefully. I don’t want him to see I’m upset over what he did to Loricel,
the Creweler who guided me during my short time at the Coventry. Cormac collects information
the way some men collect old
Bulletin
s. But with him it isn’t a harmless habit. Cormac knows which stories—which inconsequential
facts should be held on to—so he can use them against you later.

Cormac’s mind stays on Pryana, though. “I’ve placed her back within the Western Coventry
and canceled the wedding.”

“I hope you hadn’t sent the invitations,” I say.

“Would it matter?” he asks with a snort.

Of course not. The Tailors under his command could remove the memory of the invitation,
alter the information in the minds of the people fortunate—or rather, unfortunate—enough
to have received one. Every action Cormac takes has a built-in fail-safe. He never
has to worry about making a policy mistake or averting a disaster because he can wipe
the memory of it away.

Tailors were the nightmares you couldn’t remember the moment your eyes opened.

“Well, you are too old for me,” I say, searching for something to talk about that
doesn’t revolve around that ring. In the end, I give up. “Why? Tell me why I should
accept your … offer?”

“There’s the little matter of your sister. Need I remind you she’s currently in my
custody?”

I shake my head. I’m well aware that he has Amie.

“Good. I knew she would come in handy, but there’s more,” he says. He straightens
in his chair, ready to talk business. “The reason you should agree to it is fairly
simple. There’s trouble in Arras. If we’re going to work together to ensure both worlds
survive, we need to give the people something else to think about, obsess over—and
what’s better than a celebrity wedding?” He flashes me a blinding smile that’s meant
to be charming. Too bad it’s never worked on me. But I know he’s absolutely right.
The wedding of Cormac would be the talk of every metro in Arras. It would occupy the
Bulletin
s and the Stream for months, even years, or however long it might take to divert people’s
attention from what’s really going on.

“You want to distract them,” I say.

“I need them in their places, Adelice. Our plans won’t succeed if the citizens are
scared.”

“Exactly what is happening in Arras?” I ask.

“Nothing that can’t be handled,” he assures me, but he blinks as he says it.

Except he needs a wedding—
a huge distraction
—to handle it.

I push the plate away from me and rub my wrists. I don’t know how much time I have
until he puts the gages back on my hands, now that he’s pitched his idea.

“You’re finished with your meal,” Cormac says. He looks at the gages, and I sigh,
raising my hands to him. An aeroship caught in the Interface between Earth and Arras
is no place to try to escape. If only Cormac could see that.

“These protect me from you,” he says, picking up the gages. “I saw what you did to
Kincaid, which was admirable, but I’m not eager for a repeat performance. Not yet.
There is another option, though.”

He glances toward the box on the table. I still haven’t touched it.

“If I say yes, no more gages?” I ask.

“When you put on that ring, Adelice, you’ll be making a commitment. As will I,” he
reminds me. “To show you I am serious about our endeavor, as long as you wear that
ring, there is no need for these.” He waves the gages around and I look from them
to the ring.

It isn’t until I reach out for the blue velvet box that I notice my fingers are trembling.
Are all girls this scared of a marriage proposal? It probably doesn’t help that mine
comes with a real till-death-do-us-part clause attached. I stare at the ring. It’s
flawless, but its loveliness is tainted by what it stands for: control.

Over me.

Over Arras.

“Allow me,” he says, slipping it onto my finger. “I know you think of this as a means
to an end, Adelice, but remember, there is no shame in compromise.”

There is shame in lying, I think. But I swallow the words deep inside me with a frantic
gulp.

“Perfect,” he says. The ring fits precisely as though it were made for me. It probably
was.

I fan my fingers in front of me, noticing the ring’s weight as the stone catches the
light and blazes with fiery life, sending flickers like stars around the room.

“Do we have a deal?” Cormac asks.

“The proposal every girl dreams of,” I mutter.

“I’m not getting down on one knee.”

“Thank Arras.”

I stare at him. Then I stare at the ring. Cormac needs a wedding to distract the citizens
from trouble, whatever that means, but a wedding could buy me time as well. Time to
figure out what Cormac is keeping from the people. Time to allow the Agenda on Earth
to organize. Because time is a precious thing there, and I need to buy as much of
it as I can for my friends.

“Yes,” I say, pushing Erik’s face from my mind and ignoring the twinge of fear I feel.

We regard each other for one wary moment and then I reach out and grip his hand in
a firm shake.

“How businesslike,” Cormac says, and he pulls my hand up to his mouth, but before
his lips can touch it, the door zips open and Hannox enters. He freezes for a moment,
no doubt stunned by Cormac’s romantic gesture. Or maybe by the horror on my face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir.”

Cormac waves it off. “What’s the trouble? Are those Agenda fools coming after us?”

I tug my hand from his at the mention of the Agenda, wondering if he’s referring to
Dante, Jost, and Erik.

“The problem isn’t on Earth, sir,” Hannox says, pausing to let this information sink
in. “It’s Arras. There’s a blackout over the Eastern Sector.”