Everything about this evening suddenly makes sense to me. Mother arranged for this—my medal ceremony—to motivate Gabriel into taking action against me. This is her way of pressing for my death warrant. Clifton knows it. He’s issuing a threat of his own, letting Gabriel know that I’m not without allies. And Gabriel feels betrayed by me.
“For bravery behind enemy lines,” Othala says, “I’m pleased to bestow the Medal of Valor to secondborn Roselle Sword.”
I rise from my seat to a smattering of applause, picking up my clutch. As I near Gabriel, I lift my sharp knife. He doesn’t move or show any emotion, merely stares at Clifton. He never flinches when I stab the knife into his steak, skewering it. I open my clutch and thrust the steak into it, a treat for the maginots later, though it makes my point now. Closing the clutch, I set the knife on the table and walk to the podium.
Mother lifts the medal, intending to pin it on Emmitt’s dress. I hold out my hand instead. She places it in my palm. “Would you like to say a few words, Roselle?”
I nod and look out at the sea of firstborns before me. “I accept this on behalf of secondborn Swords everywhere, whose valor protects all of you every day.” Instead of returning to my seat, I walk to the door at the back of the ballroom and slip outside to the stone veranda. Iono guards stand watch at all the entrances to this fortress, but they ignore me because I’m breaking out, not breaking in. I take the stone stairs down to the grounds at the back of the house. The lights overlooking the manicured lawns show off the glorious topiary maze and bronze statues of soldiers from other eras. I used to love to get lost among them.
My high-heeled shoes crunch on the gravel. I walk to the stone bridge over the koi pond and toss the medal into the water. The sound of the splash fades. I keep walking. The stone-tiled rooftops of the kennels come into view. The wolfhounds know me by my scent, and my sweet babies run to me and surround me, their iridescent yellow eyes following my every movement. They sniff the air and whine in anticipation of treats. I wait for the boldest among them to come to me. Opening my clutch, I take out Gabriel’s steak and tear off pieces of it, tossing them to the pack.
My favorite maginot approaches me. “I missed you, Rabbit,” I whisper. The giant wolfhound nudges me with his vicious-looking muzzle. “How’s my good boy?” Standing on all four of his legs, Rabbit and I are at eye level. I scratch the thick fur of his neck. He licks my face. My fingers slide under his metal collar, and I feel for the lever there. The pin eases from the bolt, and Rabbit automatically sits and becomes still.
I nudge the bolt open. A port slips out of Rabbit’s neck. From my shoe, I tug out the device that Reykin gave me. Inserted in Rabbit’s port, the star-shaped metal spins like a glowing sun. Rabbit’s muscles twitch as the cyborg accepts the device’s program. The golden star slows and stops.
“Never outlive your usefulness, sweet baby,” I whisper, “and never trust the pack.” I hug him. In the morning, when Rabbit is called back inside the kennel, he’ll be connected to the Sword Palace’s main systems. His handlers will upload his security logs. They won’t realize that when they do, Reykin’s program will be among the data. The rootkit drivers in the malware will conceal it. “We’re gonna burn it all down, Rabbit. You . . . and me.”
Chapter 24
The Hand and the Heart
On the way back toward the ballroom to rejoin Clifton, I pause at the apex of the stone bridge. The koi pond beneath me reflects the stars of billions of other worlds. Bending the arms of the thin, star-shaped device in my hand, I break them off one by one and drop them into the water. Concentric circles ripple outward in the dark pool. Soft music floats to me from the orchestra inside. When all the pieces disappear, I exhale deeply, resting my forehead against the bridge’s cool stone railing.
Footsteps make me straighten. A man stops at the edge of the bridge. I turn toward him. It’s Hawthorne. His face is hidden in shadow, but I’d know him anywhere. He approaches me slowly, deliberately. I take a step back. I don’t have a weapon. I step toward the other side of the bridge, and he moves to block my way.
“You can’t be out here.” My voice quivers, sounding weak. He takes a couple of more steps toward me. “The maginots will shred you.”
“You’re not afraid of those vicious cyborgs,” he murmurs, “but you’re afraid of me?”
“They’ve never hurt me.”
He glances down, looking wounded. “You have to leave. Now. Just go—don’t return to the ballroom.” He takes my left hand in his. From the pocket of his uniform, he pulls out a small aerosol device and sprays the skin over my moniker. The holographic sword fades from view. “Don’t go back to the Base,” he growls. “Stay in the city. Clifton can’t protect you at the Base like he can in Forge.”
“What did you just do to my moniker?”
“I covered it with CR-40. It’s a polymer. It’ll block your signal for a few hours—enough time for you to get away from here.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Gabriel is out of his mind right now. He’s given a kill order for you. Assassins are being dispatched.”
“I’m not against him. He knows that! This isn’t him. He’s not like this, Hawthorne!”
“He’s like this now, Roselle. When I fail to kill you tonight, there will be others. Be vigilant—stay with your Salloway bodyguards at all times.”
“How long have you been working for my brother?” After seeing Hawthorne with Gabriel the day I came back from the Fate of Stars, I didn’t want to believe what I know in my heart to be true.
“Since the day we met. I was sent by him to look for you—to see if you survived the attack.”
“So Gabriel saved me from Agent Crow, or was that you?”
Hawthorne scowls. “It’s always been me, Roselle. Just me. Your family has always been fine with the idea of you dying. It’s your living that concerns them.” He looks over his shoulder, then turns back to me. Seeing that I’m not going to leave without some kind of explanation, he relents. “My brother was Gabriel’s right hand on the Heritage Council. Did you know Flint?”
I shake my head. “After I turned eleven, I was kept away from Gabriel. Over the years, I’d sometimes see members of his council at the Palace, but I was never permitted to speak to them. I was beneath their notice.”
Hawthorne nods, his expression grim. He’s on the other side of the fence now—one of them—but he knows what it’s like to be secondborn. “Flint contacted me on Gabriel’s behalf the day of the attack. You remember when I found you?”
I nod. “You thought I was in shock.”
“They’d given us your last known position. It was Flint I was talking to in my headset when I located you. He hadn’t spoken to me since I’d Transitioned, and all of a sudden, he wanted me to find you to see if you survived.”
“Were they afraid I was dead?”
“They were only worried that you’d been taken by the Gates of Dawn,” he replies. “They were afraid you’d slip out of their control. Once they found out you were alive, I was ordered to make sure you arrived at the Base for your Transition.”
I don’t think I want to know any more. My throat aches, but I have to ask. “So you thought you’d be finished with all of us as soon as you released me into Transition?”
“Yes, but it didn’t go down that way, did it? Gabriel had you placed in my air-barracks. Since the morning I found you in the locker room, I was required to give Flint and Gabriel status updates. I never told them what you and I really talked about—I gave them false reports. When I told you I’ve loved you since I was ten, that was real. Everything we’ve shared together is real.”
I don’t know what to believe. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve agonized about telling you everything, but your not knowing made every lie I told them more credible. And you’ve been having nightmares since I met you. What would it do to you to know that my lies were keeping you alive? I would’ve kept on lying to you—lying to them—anything so they’d leave you alone. But Flint was murdered . . . and now I know the truth.”