The Scorpion Rules (Prisoners of Peace #1)



Time went by, stretched and strange. Talis paced. Xie held my numb hand. The Abbot stroked my hair. We put ice on my hands, then took it off, then put it back on. I had Xie, but I needed Elián, who thought I was strong—I needed Elián. And just as I was thinking so, the door burst open so fast, it thumped into the wall.

“Greta!” Elián rushed toward me, his hands coming up to his face. “Oh, God . . .”

“She’s okay,” said Xie. “You’re okay, Greta.”

Elián actually looked to his torturer for reassurance.

“Hairline fractures,” the Abbot told him gently. “Bruising and swelling. She genuinely will be fine, Mr. Palnik.”

Elián’s hands were coming off his face, reaching for me. A smart-plastic cuff still dangled from one wrist. His face was bruised, as it had been when I’d first seen him. I recognized his expression now as I had not then—swallowed-down fear, carefully tamped fury. “Greta. I swear I had no—”

“Excuse me,” said Talis.

“Go away,” snapped Elián.

“Elián,” said the Abbot. “This is—”

Elián barely glanced at Talis, taking him perhaps for a Cumberlander. “I said go away!”

“Talis,” whispered Xie.

“Greta,” said Elián. “I— I’m so—”

“Excuse me,” said Talis.

“Elián,” said the Abbot. “This is Talis.”

Elián turned. He looked at Talis. He looked some more. His eyes hardened. His lips tightened. The knob of his chin wrinkled up.

“Hi,” said Talis.

“Take one more step toward me,” said Elián. “Take one more step, and I will lay you out. I will put you on the damn ground.”

Talis quirked one corner of his mouth. “Really.”

“Try me.”

“Oh, you are fantastic.” Talis looked Elián up and down as if he were a piece in an art museum. “Ambrose, I know you have your heart set on Greta, but I think I like this one. Maybe we should upload them both.”

That erased Elián’s fury, and replaced it with a bewilderment that looked a lot like terror. “What?” he said.

“I hardly think he’s suitable, Michael. And I’m sure he’d never consent.”

Talis shrugged elaborately. “There’s that.”

“What?” said Elián. “No, I don’t consent. Consent to what?”

A smile spread over Talis’s face. “What a firecracker, Ambrose. I can see why you’ve had so much trouble. Elián Palnik. It is a pleasure to meet you at last. You’re my new favorite.”

“Fuck off,” snarled Elián—and Xie grabbed him by the arm.

“Stop,” she whispered, pulling at him. “Elián, stop. Greta—it’s Greta who needs us.”

“Ah, yes,” said Talis. “Your princess. My princess. Greta, who needs us.”

“You leave her alone,” said Elián.

But Talis kept coming forward, slow but unstoppable as the tide. “You’re shouting at the wrong person here, Elián. I didn’t do this to our Greta. In fact I saved her. You know, mostly. And for now.”

“Lord Talis,” said Xie. “What do you mean?”

“Thank you, Xie,” said Talis. “I do like to be fed my lines. Think about it, kiddies. Really think it through. I stopped dear Wilma by putting a city on the firing line. What do you think will happen if I can’t actually fire? What will Grandma do if we wake up in the morning and Pittsburgh is still standing?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” whispered Xie.

“No,” said Talis. “You wouldn’t dare. Which is adorable. But Armenteros— Let’s ask Elián. Hey, Elián. Do we think Grandma would dare?”

I saw Xie look at Elián. I saw her whole body freeze.

“I’ll spell it out, shall I?” said Talis. “Slowly? For the benefit of the class? Or, let’s be honest here, mostly for Elián. Shall I spell it out for you, Elián? If we wake up in the morning and Pittsburgh is still standing, the Cumberlanders will know their snowstorm is working. They’ll risk a call out to Halifax. They have to: it’s the only card they’ve got to play. They’ll use an oblivious transfer, quantum scramble up a blizzard so thick that it will take hours to hack, even for me.”

He was close to them now—very close. Xie had wedged her body between him and Elián. She was leaning backward as if afraid Talis might scorch her with his presence. Elián was almost holding her up, which left him unable to deck the ruler of the world.

“Let’s think about those hours, shall we?” pressed Talis. “The hours when Cumberland has Halifax on the line and not a lot of time. Do we think Grandma will bow out quietly? Or will she go out with a big number?”

“I—” said Elián.

“Or let’s ask Greta,” Talis interrupted. In a blink he cut sideways—he had backed Elián and Xie out of the way—and was leaning over the edge of the map table. “What do you think, Princess? Are you up for another turn as the star of the show? Another turn of the screw?” And with that, he closed his hand over mine, and squeezed.