Unraveled (7 page)

As soon as Cormac joins us, we’re evacuated out of the Ministry’s emergency rebound
chambers directly into the Northern Sector. But we don’t go to the Ministry offices
as Cormac insinuated earlier. He still hasn’t given me any answers about what’s going
on. Instead we’re whisked through the metro in a motocarriage.

I take a deep breath and push the words out of my mouth that I don’t want to speak.
“I think there is room for compromise regarding the Eastern Sector. You don’t have
to destroy it.”

“There is no compromise,” Cormac growls. “Our partnership doesn’t extend to the governance
of Arras.”

“I thought you wanted someone to help you control the situation on Arras,” I say.

“I do, but I’ll tell you when and how you will be necessary for that purpose.” He
tugs at the vest strapped tightly around his neck.

“Then I’m not sure why you brought me here,” I say. I don’t shrink away from him even
as he presses closer to me. There’s a violent electricity in the air between us. One
of us could snap at any moment, and I can’t say how much longer I can play nice.

“Because you’ve never been able to see the big picture.” His breath stings my nostrils
as he gets in my face. “If this taint spreads through Arras, Earth will die along
with it. I’ll be forced to use more of its resources to rebuild our world.”

“And the only way you can stop this threat is to destroy everything you built here?”

Cormac grabs my wrist so forcefully that it feels as though my bones will snap. “I
have this under control.”

“Are you sure?” My question is soft.

“Never presume that I’m not in control.” His words are firm but his eyes tell a different
story. He can’t hide the fierce panic blazing in them.

“There are a lot of innocent people in this sector,” I reason with him. “Are you going
to desert them?”

His voice lowers to a whisper. This point is meant only for me. “Tell me, Adelice,
how do you know when someone is innocent? Because two years ago I was called to a
retrieval gone bad, and I walked in ready to face a traitor. And do you know what
I found? A scrap of a girl who couldn’t run fast enough to get away.” Cormac trails
a finger down my throat, and my hands curl into fists. “You looked innocent, and what
a fool you made of all of us.”

“You’re wrong,” I say in a quiet voice.

“You were innocent?” he asks.

“No, about me not seeing the big picture. It’s not that I don’t see it. It’s that
I see a different one than you.” I pause, waiting for him to interrupt, but for once
he’s listening to me. “You’re looking at the past, Cormac. Your world is falling apart
while you squint and pretend the big picture isn’t deteriorating rather than face
the truth.”

“And I suppose you’re going to enlighten me?” he asks with a scoff.

“I can’t do that, which is why you need me. You’re holding on so tightly that you’re
strangling Arras. Call off the protocol and we’ll figure something out together.”

Cormac hesitates, his black eyes fixed on mine, flickering like he’s trying to read
a secret code. He won’t find anything hidden there, because I believe every word I’ve
said to him. “This sector isn’t beyond saving,” I continue. “Nothing in this world
or the one below us is beyond saving. The fact that you brought me here proves you
know that. You gave me another chance, Cormac. You can give those girls one as well.”

Cormac’s gaze falls to the floor and he straightens up, unable to meet my eyes. It’s
the first time he’s backed down from me. It’s the first time I’ve won.

I try to bite back the triumphant smile tugging at my lips as he cocks his head. “Hannox,”
he calls.

I think of Hanna’s judgmental eyes. She scorned my methods, but I have gotten results
through diplomacy. Cormac might be a twisted man, but he always does the best thing
to advance his career. Abandoning the Eastern Sector wasn’t going to earn him popularity
points.

“Hold the protocol,” he says. “Wait for my orders.”

As soon as he ends his conversation, his eyes fall wearily over me.

My heart takes flight like a freed bird as we pass outside the central part of Cypress,
past tall buildings and shops out to the cookie-cutter streets that comprise the neighborhoods.
It’s evening and the streets are empty, lights flicker in windows, but curfew is imminent.
Posted signs warn us to turn back—that we’re entering a restricted area. When we finally
stop, Hannox helps me out of the back of the motocarriage. We’re on a bluff much like
the one Cormac brought me to during a goodwill tour we took together. The men speak
in furious whispers until Hannox climbs back inside the motocarriage, leaving Cormac
and me alone.

“Are you here to tempt me?” I ask him as he appears by my side. He’d offered me Arras
once as we looked over a cliff.

“No, we’re here to witness.”

“Witness what?” I ask, suspicion seeping into my voice.

He taps his wristwatch. “Soon. I thought it was time I showed you the big picture.”

I stare out past the edge of the bluff. A metro stretches, sparkling, at the foot
of it. The night is still, not a trace of wind in the air, but as my gaze moves upward
there are no stars. No moon.

“Why are we here? I thought we were going to the Northern Ministry,” I ask, not wanting
to understand why he’s brought me here, because I think I already know the answer.

“We are standing at the boundary between the Northern Sector and the Eastern Sector,”
Cormac explains.

This information sends a chill running through my veins, but I don’t repeat my earlier
question. The lights below are merely the candles and emergency flashes the population
is using while the sector is in blackout. Instead I wait, dreading the answer that
I know is coming.

I’m here to witness Protocol Two.

The black sky flashes rainbow. Colors streak across, lighting it in brilliant ruby
and sapphire, each shade fading into another. Until it ceases to be. It’s no longer
empty air. It’s more. It’s become a gaping void. The space-time around us vibrates,
filling the abyss overhead with the low hum of absence. Under it the metro tremors
and fades, stripped before my eyes. My mind fills the silence with screams. But would
they scream? Would the people of the Eastern Sector even know what was happening to
them? Did they feel their removal from Arras?

Did they know they had been cast off from life? Through the lost cries echoing in
my head only one thought is clear: Sebrina is in the Eastern Sector. I’ve failed Jost
again.

I step closer to the edge, and when the air stings my tears, I realize I’m crying.
“What have you done?”

“I’ve shown you who is in control here. Don’t forget what you’ve seen.”

I swallow my own scream as I stare across the expanse, wishing I could explain to
Jost what just happened. And hoping I never have to.

For a moment there is nothing, and I understand why Arras has strict boundary laws.
Passage between sectors is controlled to ensure citizens stay where they are supposed
to and don’t see anything they shouldn’t. But also because
this
might need to be done at a moment’s notice. I feel certain it has been before.

“How many times have you done this?” I ask Cormac, forcing my hands to my sides even
as they ache to reach out and rend him in half.

“Protocol Two?” he asks.

I nod, my eyes never leaving the empty space stretching before us. We stand on the
precipice of this world. Past us lies nothing but a blank gap in reality.

“I’ll never tell,” he says.

I round on him, leaving no room between us. “You can’t do this. There are innocent
people there. There are children!”

My throat is thick with grief, and I choke on the final word, my heart splintering
even further for Jost and Sebrina until I’m sure I will crack under the pressure of
my guilt.

Cormac grabs my shoulders, squeezing them until my fingers start to tingle. “Do. Not.
Question. Me.”

Each word is a threat, spoken in a low tone that registers only in the shiver running
up my spine. He drops his hold on me and steps away, opening and closing his fingers
in rapid succession as he stares into the void.

There is more wrong here than an altered reality. No one is safe under the authority
of Cormac Patton.

A placid gray washes across the vacant sky and the stars reappear. As I watch, the
world changes into a calm, still scene, erasing the violence that preceded this moment.
Water ripples into place, flooding the space below the cliff. It is born of nothing,
and it rushes in gentle waves until it reaches the edge of the precipice. Now I stand
on a rocky beach instead of the end of the world, but the ocean is a lie. Now there
are three sectors instead of four. Now I see Arras in a new and terrifying light.

We can destroy the world as quickly as we can build it.

SEVEN

B
Y THE END OF MY FIRST WEEK
back at the Coventry I’m smiling, but only for the surveillance feeds that watch
me. By the end of the second week, I begin placing orders from the catalogs left for
my perusal. I learn patience as I try to forget what I’ve given up.

My freedom.

My destiny.

And Erik, who I force from my waking mind, but who haunts my dreams.

Days pass mechanically inside the walls of the Western Coventry, because I’m a prisoner
here—despite Cormac’s assurance that we are partners. It’s not the same compound I
remember coming to as an Eligible. The walls are still programmed with false windows
that display relaxing settings, but the actual composition of the Coventry has changed.
Now the threads that comprise the walls are knit tightly together and bound through
with strange, artificial strands. Strands I can’t penetrate. I wouldn’t have tried
if I hadn’t been left to my own devices for so long that I’m sure I’m losing my mind.

My quarters are more lavish than when I first came here. Two of the walls in my bedroom
are programmed to look like a window overlooking the Endless Sea. I’m not sure if
it’s meant to relax me or remind me I can’t escape. There are five more rooms in my
apartment on the top floor of the high tower, all decorated in shades of yellow. They’re
probably meant to boost my spirits, but the yellow is driving me crazy. There’s a
sunny bathroom, a buttery living room, a golden dining room, a lemony closet that
could fit a small house inside it, and a second powder room, small, gray—the only
contrasting color—for when Cormac comes to visit me.

I’m not allowed out among the other Spinsters, as though my rebellion is catching—a
communicable disease without a cure. I suppose Cormac believes giving me a large cage
to fly around in will convince me I’m free.

My staff is always changing and always silent, obviously instructed not to speak to
me. Even the aestheticians who arrive each day to curl my hair and line my eyes won’t
chat with me. They go about their work without a word. Given what happened to my last
aesthetician, my mentor, and my valet, I guess it’s understandable that no one trusts
me. I tried to talk with them at first, hoping they would have the information I need
to break Cormac, but no one in the Coventry is interested in helping me. Cormac has
made sure I have no allies or friends here. No one to help me find out the one piece
of vital information I need: where Cormac stays when he comes here. Catching him asleep
may be the only element of surprise I have in my favor.

I’m made up in case Cormac comes to call. It’s the only information I’ve been given
about my strange daily rituals. He’s already preparing me to be the perfect wife:
neat and fashionable and out of the way.

But I can tell when he’s coming because my whole day shifts. Valets appear with decanters
and freshly cut flowers. Maids scurry in and out, checking my supply of toilet paper
and sweeping the pristine floor. New dresses arrive for my already stuffed closet.
My only job is to pick one and stay out of the way of the gaggle of servants making
way for the lord and master.

“Lord and master” is my new nickname for Cormac. I want to say it to his face with
a sneer. I fantasize about it, but I’m starting to learn the value of some advice
I once received from an old friend. I’ll get more out of him if I play dumb.

By the time he finally arrives, I’ve had to reapply my own lipstick. Cormac bursts
through the door to the apartment with the air of a man who owns the place.

He does, but it doesn’t make it any less rude.

I watch as he loosens his bow tie, leaving it to hang askew against his unbuttoned
collar. His fingers press into his temples as they often do these days. If I was meant
to be a wife, I would be waiting with a cocktail poised in my hands, but I let the
valet pour it. Cormac drinks longer draughts with each visit, a sign that his stress
level is rising. We never talk about Arras or his job. I tried at first, but it became
clear he no longer intends to utilize me or my skills. Now I’m left to play the role
of the dutiful wife until I can gather the information I need to truly effect change
in Arras, beginning with Cormac himself. The more secure he feels, the closer I can
get to him.

We sit across from each other at a mahogany table too long for two people. The salad
arrives and I spear the tender spinach leaves with unnecessary force. He doesn’t notice.

“Headache?” I ask him. I focus on sounding concerned, even though the question unnerves
me. I can almost see the edges of him fraying away and I’m not certain if it’s actually
happening or it’s my imagination.

“I’m fine,” he snaps, taking another swig from his drink and slamming the tumbler
onto the table.

“Will you be staying long?” Despite my casual tone, my heart pounds like a drum as
I ask.

“I’ll leave in the morning.” But to my disappointment he says no more about his plans.

“How was your week?” I ask, trying to channel my mother and how she spoke to my father
at the dinner table.