Unraveled (23 page)

“Arras time or Earth time?” Jost asks.

“That’s relative,” Albert says.

“What does that mean?” Jost demands.

“It means that in this set of circumstances, we have an hour. We’d better get to it.”

Everyone rushes in opposite directions, and I don’t have time to say goodbye to Erik
before Dante has pulled me to the side. We’re leaving with Jax and Falon.

“That’s it?” I ask. “How are we going to do this with only four of us?”

“Jax will stay with you the whole time, Adelice,” Dante says.

“I’m not much of a bodyguard,” Jax points out.

“You know how to initiate Protocol Three and Adelice claims she can get Cormac to
tell her the pass code,” Falon says.

“That was before I knew he’d ordered my death,” I point out.

“Be extra sweet,” Dante advises me.

“And the other sectors?” I ask, ignoring Dante’s helpful advice.

“We will have several minutes in each sector before the coventries detect an anomaly,”
Loricel says. “You must get word out before I start the next rebound.”

“We should go alone. Cover more territory,” Dante says.

“I can handle two of you at a time, but past that, things will get tricky.”

“I’ll go to the Western Coventry,” I volunteer. “Pryana will help me get the evacuations
going, and I have to be sure that Amie gets out.”

“We need to focus on the population, not the coventries,” Dante argues.

“I’m not negotiating on this,” I tell him. “I need to make sure Amie gets out, and
Pryana is Agenda. She can notify others.”

“Amie will be safe, Ad,” Jax says.

“If the evacuation measures are in place,” I say. “There are four of us. We can cover
all the sectors and the Western Coventry, too.”

“Fine,” Dante relents. “Loricel, can you do it?”

“Absolutely,” Loricel says.

Dante nods, his eyes flicking to each of us as if to gauge our readiness.

“Then Falon will take the leader of the Southern Sector, Jax the Northern, and I’ll
take the Western Sector, and then we’ll all meet in the Northern Ministry to deal
with Cormac together.”

I nod, my pulse building to a frenzy. From this moment on we are on borrowed time,
but before I can even consider how much danger we’re rebounding into, Erik appears.

“I hear you need disguises.”

TWENTY-THREE

I
ALWAYS EXPECTED THAT HAVING MY FLESH
altered would hurt, but other than an initial prickle across my nerves, I don’t feel
much.

“How are you doing?” Erik asks me.

I don’t bother to look at him, because then I’ll see what he’s doing and I definitely
don’t want to see.

“I’m great,” I say as enthusiastically as possible. “I’m still not sure what you’re
doing, though.” I never mastered my Tailor abilities past basic alteration, and my
work was overseen by Dante or Erik every time. This is well beyond the scope of my
skill.

He snorts, but I’m telling him the truth—it doesn’t hurt. “Veiling creates an alternate
pattern of information in a person’s personal identifying sequence. If you tried to
go back in without it, it would only be seconds before a security alert was activated.
One of the many unfortunate side effects of having total control over an artificial
world is how easily anyone can be found.”

As a child this information made me feel safe. Now that I’m the person being hunted,
I can see the problem with this setup.

“But one of the perks,” he adds, “is that what they see on the security looms can
be manipulated.”

“And what they see in person?”

“That doesn’t change, and unfortunately, I don’t have time to alter your appearance.
Not that I want to,” he adds.

“So this isn’t an actual disguise?”

“Only for the security looms.”

“Shoot,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “I was hoping to get rid of these freckles.
I guess I’ll have to settle for some funny spectacles or a big hat.”

“I love those freckles.” Erik leans in and brushes a quick kiss over my bare shoulder,
straightening up again when Jax turns back toward us.

“How long does veiling buy us?” I ask.

“Depends.” Jax sounds skittish and when I look at him, his skin is gray. It could
be the lighting, but I tend to think he’s actually getting sick.

“You okay?”

He gestures to my arm, and without thinking I look down at it. Erik’s fingers are
in my flesh. There’s surprisingly little blood, but I suppose there’s not been much
blood any of the times I’ve witnessed alteration. Still, it’s unsettling to see his
fingers inside my arm, with my skin draped open like loose fabric.

“That’s appetizing,” I say.

“To answer your question,” Jax says, tapping his foot in a nervous beat on the floor,
“when we enter, we won’t be flagged automatically because of the veil over our personal
identifying sequence. But eventually they’ll realize that there are unidentified sequences
in the patterns of the sectors.”

Dante reappears, chewing on some rations. I don’t know how he can eat. “That’s why
we need to get in and out of the other sectors and then into the Cypress offices before
they catch on,” Dante says.

“We could have minutes or hours,” Jax says with a shrug.

“I will be moving you within five minutes of the first rebound,” Loricel informs us.

“That won’t be enough time! What if we can’t find anyone?” I ask.

“We don’t have long before the destruction of the Eastern Sector,” she reminds me.
“I can work quickly, but I won’t have a place to work for much longer.”

“Wait. If you’re staying here,” I say slowly, piecing together what she’s telling
me, “then you won’t make it out.”

“Probably not,” she says, but she doesn’t seem upset.

“You’ll die.”

“I know that,” Loricel says. “Don’t be sad for me, Adelice. I’ve had more than enough
time to come to grips with the inevitability of my death. Too long, actually.”

“But…” I know she’s right, but the thought of Loricel staying here to die while helping
us escape makes me sick.

“I won’t be alone,” she says softly.

“Who?” I ask.

But then I spot Albert lingering in the corner behind her. She winks at me and I have
to suppress a laugh. I’m still sad, but if the two wisest people I know want this
to happen, then I have to believe they’re right.

“What happens when we get in there?” I ask Jax.

“Once we breach the Ministry in Cypress, I’ll access the system and begin Protocol
Three.”

“But what about the pass code?” I ask.

“You get Cormac to fess up,” Falon says, folding her arms over her chest. She clearly
doesn’t think I can do it, which makes me want to hand deliver it to her.

“Once the protocol has been initiated, the system will begin the self-destruct process
as soon as Cormac says the pass code,” Jax says.

“I only have to get him to say it?” I say. “That shouldn’t be … too hard.”

“Yes, but he has to be the one to say it. It’s voice-encoded,” Dante says. “It won’t
work unless it’s him saying it.”

“Okay,” I say slowly. It won’t be as simple as raiding his office if Cormac fails
to comply. “What if he’s not there?”

Dante exhales heavily. “We have to assume he is. He gave the order to destroy this
sector from his office.”

“I don’t like the idea of Adelice running around risking her life if we aren’t sure
Cormac is there,” Erik says. He’s finished with my arm and he squeezes my hand before
he starts on Jax.

“It’s a suicide mission any way we go about it,” Falon says. She sounds like this
barely bothers her. “You two need to say goodbye now.”

I know I’ll probably never see Erik again. I know I’ll probably die today, but I don’t
need Falon to point that out at this moment.

“Falon,” Dante says in a low voice. It’s meant to be a warning but she rolls her eyes.

“What good does it do to lie to them or give them false hope? Let them have a minute
alone.”

“There’s no time for that,” he says.

“There’s never any time for that,” she says. She turns on her heel and walks out of
the room and that’s when I realize what’s bothering her. She isn’t as doom-and-gloom
as she pretends to be. She’s angry with Dante, because it’s too late for them. They’ve
spent too long fighting instead of taking a moment to be together.

“You know,” I whisper to Dante, “she’s in love with you.”

“Falon?”

“You didn’t realize that?” Erik asks.

“I don’t assume everyone is in love with me,” Dante retorts, but his eyes dart toward
the door.

“Go on, idiot,” I say, and Dante rushes out of the room.

We have minutes left to live a lifetime. We should make every second count.

TWENTY-FOUR

W
E HAVE TO LEAVE TO MAKE THE
rebound into the various sectors as quickly as possible, but Erik catches my arm
and pulls me into a dark hallway, away from the people rushing to make the final arrangements.

“I have to go and get these people out of this sector before Cormac terminates it,”
he says.

There are tears pooling in my eyes, but I blink them away.

“This is not goodbye, Ad.” He cradles my chin and forces me to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t know that,” I say.

This was a possibility. But now that we’re facing it I can’t quite catch my breath.
The more I look at Erik, the more scared I become. What are the chances that we’ll
both come back from this? I only got him back yesterday and now I’m losing him again.

I run my fingers along the faint scar where he applied my veil. “‘Love is not love
which alters when it alteration finds,’” I murmur faintly, recalling his favorite
sonnet. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he says with a smile, “‘even to the edge of doom.’”

He kisses me goodbye then and I melt into him, wishing for one more night or even
a few minutes more, but it’s over before it begins.

An uncomfortable cough startles us apart and we look up to see Jost standing in the
shadows, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says.

“We were … done,” Erik says, dropping his hands from me.

“Stop that,” Jost says.

“What?” Erik and I ask at the same time.

“Pretending like you aren’t in love,” he says. “It doesn’t bother me.”

How can that be possible when it bothers Erik and me so much?

“I’m sorry,” Erik says.

“Don’t be. Love is one thing no one should ever be angry over,” he says. “And without
you two I wouldn’t have Sebrina now. Thank you for that.”

Embarrassed, I murmur, “You’re welcome.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” Erik says with a shake of his head. “You would have
done the same for either of us.” I realize he’s right. Somehow, in the insanity of
our time together, I managed to find a family, crazy and mixed up as it is. This is
my family.

“I need you to promise me something.” Jost pauses, searching for the right words.
“If anything happens to me, please take care of Sebrina.”

“You don’t have to ask that—” I begin.

“No, I do. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I need to know that if anything
happens to me, Sebrina will be safe with you.”

“You’re coming back,” Erik says in a firm voice. “That little girl won’t lose another
father. I swear on my own life.”

“I see you’re going to be a protective uncle.” Jost’s voice breaks as he speaks. He
tries to cover it with a laugh.

“You’re our family,” I say, and Erik’s arm slides around my waist. “She’s our family,
too.”

Jost gives me a genuine smile this time. Not the wicked grin he shares with his brother.
This smile is warm and full of hope and it goes all the way to his eyes.

“Come here,” Erik says, waving his brother toward us.

He wraps an arm around each of us and we embrace, knowing this is probably the last
time we’ll ever do so. I only know one thing: one of us has to survive for Sebrina.

“If I don’t make it—” I begin, but Erik shushes me. He seems incapable of accepting
this possibility.

“No, please listen,” I continue. “Find Amie. She can take care of herself, but she’ll
have questions. I need her to know why I did what I did.”

“She knows you’re a good person,” Erik says.

“Am I?” I ask.

“Yes,” both Erik and Jost say at the same time, and for the first time in a long time
I believe it.

One of us has to live. To tell our story. To write it down. We’re the closest to the
action of this tragedy—if it’s even a tragedy. I don’t think it is anymore. I think
it’s a story of hope, unlikely as I once thought that was.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Jost says, pushing Erik’s arm toward me.

But before we can linger in our goodbye, Dante appears, yelling for us to get going.

In the end, no more words pass between Erik and me. There is no final kiss. Only a
look, worth more than any whispered farewell.

*   *   *

Loricel has set up in the makeshift rebound room they brought me through when I arrived.
There’s a wide loom in front of her, larger than most I saw at the Coventry, including
her personal loom in the high tower. It sits empty and I wish I could see the weave
of Arras one more time, before it’s too late. I know it’s too dangerous to pull it
up before we go, but there’s an ache building slowly in me at the thought of never
touching the precise, wondrous strands on a loom again.

“How are you going to do this?” I ask her, staring at the instrument panel.

“It will be like when you rebounded through the various stations,” she says, adjusting
gears in preparation.

“But that took an hour.”

“Because less talented people were at the looms and they had to wait for bureaucrats
to tell them it was okay to start the process. Then, they were watched the whole time—”

“Okay.” I surrender. “I get it.”

“You’re in good hands,” she says.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do this,” I say.