The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

“The tunnel in the castle that grants entrance to Lab 1C is two hundred feet away to the east,” Ms. Dale said, resting her back against one of the bookcases and wiping some of the sweat off her face. “And the entrance there is two floors up in the castle proper. What would that be?”

Morgan tilted her head, thinking about it for a moment, and then nodded.

“Somewhere in the servants’ quarters,” she announced. “But I’m not exactly sure where. I was never allowed in there.”

“I’ve been there,” Ms. Dale said, pushing off the wall. “I have a rough idea.”

We gathered our stuff as Ms. Dale peered around the door, checking for any signs of guards. Then she pulled it open and stepped out, looking in the opposite direction.

“It’s clear,” she whispered, and her finger flickered to her throat to turn on her subvocalizer.

Shouldering my bag, I followed her lead. We left both doors open as we exited, knowing that eventually, something would find its way out.

I just hoped that whatever it was did it soon, and didn’t kill us in the process.





37





Violet





Morgan ran through the channels, testing things, and discovered our comms were active again—at least, we could contact each other—as Ms. Dale led us up a set of stairs. She didn’t stop between floors to check the doors, just continued to move with certainty while I called the names of our missing teammates over the link, trying to reach them. Static met my entreaties, and as we neared the third landing, Ms. Dale gave me a look and reached for the collar around her neck.

“We have to change channels,” she said softly but aloud, I assumed so nobody listening in would realize.

I wanted to protest. If we changed channels, Viggo would never find me, not without cycling through all the channels and listening in. But we’d done it this way deliberately—we didn’t want to risk anyone getting captured with knowledge of what comm channels we were on. We all knew the brutal reality of how cruel Elena could be, and even though Tabitha was dead, I didn’t doubt the queen had another sadist squirreled away, intended for a violent purpose. So I just nodded.

“Channel J,” Ms. Dale told me, and I turned the small dial embedded in the collar, counting off the tiny jolts that were transmitted to my neck as I changed the channel.

Seconds later I said, Violet, testing channel J. Confirm?

My mouth moved, no sound coming out, and a moment later, Morgan replied.

Confirmed—Morgan.

Confirmed—Ms. Dale.

Comms all set, Ms. Dale immediately turned toward the handful of steps remaining, climbing them quickly and stopping at the wooden door at the top. More stairs led up, and I recalled that this side of the palace was taller than the rest because the royal quarters were above.

She pushed the door slowly, eyeing the hallway, and then swung it open fully and stepped out onto the hardwood floors, checking the opposite side of the passage. We walked through the door, and Ms. Dale began leading us, checking doors as she passed them. We turned down another series of halls, and I marveled once again at the size and the scope of this palace.

Then I realized the people in here—ordinary people who lived and worked in the palace, most of whom were probably asleep right now, unless the palace had been evacuated—were at great risk from the monsters below, and I felt a wave of guilt. I hoped the wardens would do their job and push whatever we had unleashed back before anyone was fatally injured… but regardless, I had a mission to consider.

It was a hard reality, but one I accepted. I would feel guilt for it later, of that I was certain, but for now, I had to be hard. If we finished things tonight, nobody would have to suffer in this war again.

Where is everyone? Morgan asked suddenly.

It’s the middle of the night, Ms. Dale said. They might have been evacuated, or they’re downstairs dealing with whatever is coming up from the caves. Or they’re asleep.

We turned and headed down a long hall, Ms. Dale’s pace picking up slightly.

We’re getting close, she announced.

And then one of the heavy doors in this passageway creaked open, emitting a bleary-eyed maid carrying a stack of folded sheets before any of us could even think to use our suits. The woman came to an abrupt stop, her eyes trained on us. Ms. Dale lunged for her, but she tossed the sheets up with a shriek and began to run.

“HELP!” she screamed.

The next moment, two wardens appeared ahead, and I dodged down the hallway to the right, Morgan following suit, while Ms. Dale went left.

“It’s on this side,” she shouted to us. “I’ll give you covering fire… one at a time.”

I nodded and rose to a crouch, facing Ms. Dale. She nodded too and then turned down the hall, using the corner as cover and firing at the two guards. I ran, and gunfire erupted loudly down the hall, drowning out the relative quiet. I made it safely across—they were aiming at Ms. Dale, who ducked back, ejecting a magazine and pulling out a new one. Her hand shook, the swelling having reached the palm, but somehow she managed.

Morgan caught my eye, and I watched as she backed up a few steps and then raced for us, her legs blurred. She dove, arching her back like a swan taking flight, and then curling seamlessly into a roll as she landed on our side, propelling herself right back onto her feet.

There was a delayed burst of gunfire, and then Ms. Dale tugged a grenade off her belt, pulled the pin out with her teeth, and tossed the thing haphazardly down the hallway.

I was already moving with Morgan down the hallway, Ms. Dale close behind me. We were about ten or fifteen feet along it when the grenade went off. The floorboards shuddered underfoot, and a blast of heat tore down the hallway, dissipating only slightly before it reached us—small patches of fire burning behind us and a haze of smoke surrounding us. Morgan led the way through it, her gun drawn and her eyes wary.

Well, they definitely know we’re here now, Ms. Dale transmitted. They’ll be coming.

Are we close?

Ms. Dale hesitated.

I’m not entirely sure. Two hundred feet is hard to gauge. We’re in the right—

A burst of gunfire sounded from behind us, and Ms. Dale grunted and fell forward into me, dragging me down. Morgan stepped to one side, her body reacting before she could stop, and her arm went up, firing two silenced rounds behind us. I heard a thud as a body hit the ground, and looked to see a woman down, another woman ducking back around the corner. I fired a few shots at the wall near her, keeping her back.

Ms. Dale cursed a long string of obscenities into the comms, and I turned to see her on her side, her hand on her lower back just below the bulge of her vest. Blood streamed steadily from between her fingers.

Help me move her, I shouted to Morgan, and together, we dragged her into a side room that turned out to be a cupboard of some sort, Morgan keeping her gun trained down the hall.