Aramovsky nods. “I understand. And should I still send you Bishop, Gaston and Borjigin?”
“Yes,” she says. “And make sure you do it before the battle. We need to take out the strongest first, a few at a time, so there are no more accidents. Make sure they come alone, and through the entrance I showed you. We’ll gas them there so they don’t put up a struggle—these children are dangerous.” Matilda looks down at me. “You cut off Visca’s head with a shovel? Really, my dear, that’s so…well, so savage.”
An insane cackle bubbles out from behind her mask.
Aramovsky lifts the box off my thighs. He starts to turn away, then stops, turns back, leans close.
“Don’t be afraid,” he says. “The gods want this for you.”
He means it. He believes every word.
I spit in his face.
He stands, shocked and angry, spit clinging to one closed eye. He wipes it away with the sleeve of his red robe.
“You’ve always thought you were smarter than me,” he says.
“Not smarter,” I say. “Deadlier. Tell your gods I’ll send you to meet them very soon.”
Coyotl guides Aramovsky away, somewhere behind me. They must be walking to the racks with the empty plastic bins.
“Leave her be,” Coyotl says. “I’ll walk you out and show you how to use the bracelets.”
My brave words ring hollow. The reality of my situation pushes down on me. I have failed in every way. Barkah’s people outnumber mine a hundred to one, maybe more, but those bracelets will even the odds. Aramovsky is only going to use people that don’t have a living Grownup ready to take over their body. Many of those that fight will die, sacrifices to the God of Blood. Those that do not fight will be rounded up a few at a time, then their minds will be wiped, their young bodies used as a vessel for ancient evil.
Just as I will be used.
Matilda delicately reaches for my face. I thrash my head away, lurch at my restraints, but there is no escape. When her hand comes close enough, I bite at it.
She pauses, her fingertips just out of reach.
“Biting, again?”
Matilda walks to the platform, grabs something there, brings it back. She’s holding a thin red cane. She shows it to me.
“Remember when Grampa used one of these on us if we cursed? You know what he always said—Spare the rod, spoil the child.”
A flick of her wrist raises it, another flick brings it down on my stomach.
Agony engulfs me. My body convulses: my muscles tighten so suddenly and completely that wrists and ankles and hips smash against the bars holding them down. I burn, I’m burning up I’m going to die I don’t want to die I—
She lifts the rod and the pain stops.
My breath comes rushing back. I taste blood.
“Silly girl,” Matilda says. “You bit through your lip. I suppose that serves you right, but don’t damage yourself any further.”
The withered hand reaches for my face. I don’t want that pain again, so I close my eyes and stay still.
Rough, dry fingers on my forehead, sliding across my skin.
“Look what you’ve done to my pretty hair,” she says. “I can’t wait to feel a brush slide through it once again. It’s been so long.”
This dead thing is petting me. I’m terrified and disgusted. I’m hateful and alone.
She makes a tsk-tsk sound. I feel her pull something out of my hair.
I force myself to open my eyes and look at my killer. If I am to die, I will die facing my enemy.
She’s holding a bit of twig.
“As soon as the transfer is done, I’m going to take a long bath,” she says. “I’m going to clean up this filth you’ve caked on yourself. This is no way for an empress to look.”
“Brewer said he was on our side,” I say. “Why did he lie about the shuttle being the only way down here?”
“He didn’t lie. There used to be five shuttles. During the rebellion, Brewer’s people destroyed all but one—then he locked us out of the hangar. When you made me take you to the hangar, I didn’t think it would be open, but Brewer unlocked it for you. That was the first time I’d laid eyes on a shuttle in two centuries.”
“Then what about Bello’s ship?”
“We built it,” Matilda says. “We thought we might need a way down to Omeyocan someday, and two hundred years is a lot of time to make contingency plans. Brewer ruined the shuttle fleet, but there is so much of the Xolotl he doesn’t control, where he can’t see what’s happening. The ship we made isn’t as elegant as the one you stole, but it was good enough to get thirteen of us safely down to the surface. While you dealt with Bello, the rest of us came here and prepared.”
I look her up and down, take in her old, ruined body. How could she have reached the top of the Observatory in order to get down here?