The Girl Who Dared to Think (The Girl Who Dared #1)

I looked at him, then at Grey. How did he know?

And then I saw the way the Champion’s head was tilting. The way he seemed to angle one ear skyward. He hadn’t known. Scipio, however, had.

My heart pounded. I hadn’t thought of that, but of course Scipio could tell he was alive—his brain activity had never stopped! I couldn’t believe I hadn’t considered that before. I felt like an idiot—a soon to be imprisoned, tortured, and gassed idiot.

On the floor, Grey sucked in a massive breath, his eyes flying open. He looked around, first at me, then at the advancing councilman. His face, if possible, went even paler. He tried to force a smile, but it came out shaking and lopsided, hardly a smile at all.

“Champion,” he said, his voice as cracked as a shattered plate.

“Grey Farmless,” Devon answered, rolling his baton between his fingers and stepping into the room, filling it with his presence. “You have been tried by Scipio, and found undeserving. Your punishment is to be expelled from the Tower, immediately, and in a way that offers no return.”

Grey scrambled back against the far wall, holding up a hand. “I think there’s a mistake,” he said. “I—”

“Champion!” I called, my voice loud and strong, and I pointed at Grey’s wrist. “His number.”

The number, now orange, had risen to a four.

“Scipio’s grace,” Gerome gasped from the doorway, his eyes wide and filled with awe. “The experience changed him, Champion. He has seen the error in his ways.”

Devon’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the number. Then, from between clenched teeth, a single word slipped out.

“What.”

It wasn’t even a question. It was a cold, stark thing, like poison that he was trying to spit from his body.

I stared between the two of them, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. Devon did not lower his weapon, and continued to look at Grey with what could only be described as hunger. Gerome, in contrast, seemed awed, though, his brows drawn up in confusion.

“A malfunction in the system,” Devon snarled. “Scipio marked this one for death. His will must be carried out. Squire!”

Turning to me, he jabbed a finger toward Grey. “Finish him!”

I hesitated, and then lifted my chin up a notch. “Sir, are you asking me to undermine the will of Scipio?”

“It’s a trick.”

“How?” I asked, feeling a little reckless. “Sir, Knight Commander Nobilis informed me that six percent of ones can make a recovery—perhaps Citizen Farmless is just a part of that percentile? What other possibility could there be? How could Scipio even be tricked in the first place?”

“I said,” Devon hissed, “it’s a malfunction. Now do what you came here to do!”

I saw the opportunity, and took a step back, forcing an appalled look on my face. “Scipio malfunctions?” I said, eyes growing theatrically large. Devon froze, and inside, I felt a grim moment of satisfaction.

Talk your way out of that one, Champion Alexander.

Gerome looked concerned now, and stared at Devon with worry bright in his eyes. “Champion, forgive me for saying so, but Scipio does not malfunction when it comes to rankings,” he said softly. “To question this is to question the system. To question this is to cause doubt, uncertainty, and panic.”

He said the words almost as a child would—full of hesitation, and afraid of having the world as he knew it torn apart.

Devon became very still for a moment, his back to Gerome, his face to me, and all I could see was the flash of intelligence in his eyes, cold, hard, deadly. He straightened himself up and tucked away his baton, smoothing out his uniform.

“Of course, you are right, my dear Knight Commander. I seem to have gotten a bit carried away today. Citizen Farmless, I am glad you have seen the error of your ways. I hope this will help you excel even more in the years to come.”

Grey, seemingly running out of energy, slumped down the wall, his eyelids fluttering, and I moved over in a way that I hoped did not seem rushed.

“Sir,” I said to Gerome. “He needs medical attention.”

Gerome nodded slowly. “Liana, escort the young man out. I will net the Medica to come meet you in the entrance hall. See that he is taken to a proper place of treatment. I want his number stabilized and improved. Scipio spared this one for a reason, and we cannot let him fall again.”

I nodded, saluting by tapping my heels together and placing my fist over my heart. “Sir,” I said.

Gerome helped me carry Grey to the lift, Devon following a few languid steps behind the entire way. The two men rode the elevator up with me, and I kept my head down and supported Grey’s full weight, keeping my mouth shut. Luckily, they were also quiet, for which I was eternally grateful—I didn’t want them to start speculating about Grey’s miraculous recovery in front of me. My nerves were so frayed that I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep any act or acceptable version of myself in the forefront of my mind.

At the top, we were all greeted by the Medics Gerome had summoned. They took him from me, and I nearly sank to the ground with relief. He was a heavy man—surprisingly so, given his lean form. I smelled now, but I didn’t care. I was so close to getting him out of there. Half of me wanted to cheer, but the darker, less optimistic half reminded me not to stumble at the finish line. I was beginning to follow Grey, Gerome by my side, when Devon finally spoke.

“Not you, Nobilis.” We all paused. “I need to speak with you. The girl may go.”

I didn’t need telling twice. I followed the Medica team as they began to hook Grey up to machines, wheeling him along all the while. I had to walk in double time just to keep up, but the farther away from the Citadel I got, the more relieved I felt. I knew we weren’t out of danger—in fact, things were going to get even more dangerous. They would discover the valve. It was only a matter of time. But for now, I let myself feel the relief, and even permitted myself to smile as we moved. I had succeeded.





19





Grey was still sleeping after the medicine the Medics gave him, and I had been waiting for him to wake up, my patience dwindling. I felt certain that if we were going to get caught for taking medication that illegally altered our numbers, this was the place it was going to happen. I also felt certain that Devon was tearing apart the cell right now trying to find out what had gone wrong with Grey’s execution, and it was only a matter of time before he discovered the valve had been tampered with. We needed to get out of here. Soon.

I rose from the chair I had been sitting in and moved over to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Grey?” I whispered, giving him a little shake. He made a noise, but didn’t stir, his chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. “C’mon... we really should get out of here.”

“Why?”

The sudden voice in the room caused me to turn, the hair on my arms and neck standing up in alarm.

“You really are quite jumpy for a human, Squire Castell.”

It took me a moment, but it suddenly clicked. “Jasper?”