“Not on you, not ever on you.”
Mustang flinches. “…but I know you’ve seen what revenge brings. I know you’ve seen what Octavia really is. What my brother really is. You’re only guilty of trying to protect your family. You don’t deserve to die here.”
“You really want me to go?” he asks.
“I want you to live,” she says. “And yes. I want you to go, and never come back.”
“But…go where?” he asks.
“Anywhere but here.”
Cassius swallows, searching himself. Not just seeking to understand what he owes honor or duty,
but trying to imagine a world without her. I know the horrible loneliness he feels now even as we give him freedom. Life without love is the worst prison of all. But he licks his lips and nods to Mustang, not to me. “On my father, on Julian, I promise not to raise arms against any of you. If you let me go, I will leave. And I will never come back.”
“You coward.” Antonia punches the glass of her cell. “You gorydamn sniveling little whipped worm…”
I nudge Sevro. “Still your call.”
He tugs the hairs of his little goatee. “Ah hell, you better be right about this, you pricklicks.”
Digging into his pocket he pulls out the a magnetic key card and Cassius’s cell door unlocks with a heavy thunk.
“Then there’s a shuttle waiting for you in the auxiliary hangar on this level,” Mustang says evenly.
“It’s been cleared to fly. But you have to go now.”
“That means now, shithead,” Sevro says.
“They’ll pop you in the back of the head!” Antonia is saying. “You traitor.”
Cassius puts a tentative hand on the cell door, as if he’s afraid he’ll push and find it locked and we’ll laugh at him and all the hope we’ve given him will be ripped away. But he has faith and, steeling his face, he pushes. The cell’s door swings outward. Cassius walks out to join us. He holds out his hands to be cuffed.
“You’re free, man,” Sevro slurs, rapping the orange box heavily with his knuckles, “but you gotta
get in the box so we can wheel you outta here without anyone seeing.”
“Of course.” He pauses and turns back to me to extend a hand. I take it, a strange feeling of kinship rising in me. “Goodbye, Darrow.”
“Good luck, Cassius.”
And for Mustang he pauses, wanting to reach out and wrap his arms around her, but she merely sticks out a hand, cold even now to him. He looks at her hand and shakes his head, not accepting her gesture. “We’ll always have Luna,” he says.
“Goodbye, Cassius.”
“Goodbye.”
He goes to the crate, which Sevro has opened and looks inside. Hesitating there, wanting to say something to Sevro, perhaps thank him one last time. “I don’t know if your father was right. But he was brave.” He extends a hand to Sevro as he did me. “I’m sorry that he’s not here.”
Sevro blinks hard at the hand, wanting to hate it. This does not come easy for him. He’s never been
a gentle soul. But he does his best and he takes the outstretched hand. They shake. But something feels wrong. Cassius won’t let go. His face is cold, eyes unforgiving. His body rotates. So fast I can’t stop him from jerking back on Sevro’s hand, pulling my friend’s smaller body forward toward him just as he swivels his hip, bringing Sevro to his right armpit like they’re dancing, so he can strip Sevro’s pistol from his leg holster. Sevro stumbles, fumbling for the weapon but it is already gone. Cassius shoves him off and stands behind him with the scorcher pressed to his spine. Sevro’s eyes are huge, staring at me in fear. “Darrow…”
“Cassius no!” I shout.
“This is my duty.”
“Cassius…” Mustang takes a step forward. Outstretched hand trembling. “He saved your life…
Please.”
“On your knees,” Cassius says to us. “On your gorydamn knees.” I feel myself teetering on the edge of a precipice, the darkness spreading out before me. Whispering to have me back. I can’t reach for my razor. Cassius could easily shoot me down before I even pull it. Mustang goes to her knees
and motions me to get down. Numbly, I follow her lead.
“Kill him!” Antonia’s shouting. “Shoot the bastard!”
“Cassius, listen to me…,” I beg.
“I said on your knees,” Cassius repeats to Sevro.
“My knees?” Sevro smiles wickedly. A mad gleam in his eye. “Stupid Gold. You forgot Howler rule number one. Never bow.” He snatches up his razor from his right wrist, tries to spin around. But he’s too slow. Cassius shoots him in the shoulder, jerking him sideways. The combat vest cracks.
Blood sprays onto the metal wall. Sevro stumbles forward, eyes wild.
“For Gold,” Cassius whispers and fires six more shots point-blank into Sevro’s chest.