But I had seen Tast’annin die, slumped against the great pit he had dug on Saint Alaban’s Hill.
I stood panting, trying to calm myself so I wouldn’t go careening through the passage and bring the Aviators down on me like a pair of hounds. The fearlessness and strength I had felt just a few minutes ago was gone. Suddenly it seemed that all my actions of the past year had been insanely transparent. I felt as though there had been someone watching me all along, tracking me and just waiting for this moment to seize me. Those months when I had thought I was safe here at Seven Chimneys, safe in the City of Trees: all madness, an illusion brought on by my need to feel myself free and whole for the first time in my life. The Ascendants had for a little time forgotten me, that was all; as they had forgotten the City of Trees. But their attention had been brought back, first by Tast’annin’s defection; now by his command to search for me.
“ Oh, he’ll find her…. ”
He would too; and this time he wouldn’t lose me.
I remembered Trevor Mallory in the cellar—“ I would have done it differently — no scars, nothing to show that you had ever been touched…. ”—and heard Dr. Harrow’s voice just before she died, warning me of the Ascendants’ plans for the empaths she had nurtured at HEL—
“ And you, Wendy. And Anna, and all the others. Like the geneslaves: toys. Weapons— you especially …”
She had been right. Nothing—not even death, it seemed—would keep the Ascendants from controlling their creations. I had been a fool to think otherwise. They had engineered me as a weapon, my mind altered through chemicals and surgery until they could turn it to their own purposes. But they would not give up a weapon so easily—especially now, when they were threatened by this rebel Alliance. They would reclaim me as they had reclaimed Tast’annin. If he was still alive—if he was again alive—he must be an even more maleficent creature than he was before. Somehow they had brought him back into their game; somehow they would do the same with me.
I shuddered. I had been mad to put my trust in Giles and Trevor. Their attempt to hide us suddenly seemed as pathetic as Fossa’s efforts at speech. Those two Aviators would find and capture me as though I were a bewildered feral dog, then give me over to the new team of researchers at HEL and never think of me again. If I tried to fight them, my fate would be Tast’annin’s, killed and regenerated as an Ascendant tool, with no mind or will of my own.
And what then of Jane and Miss Scarlet?
“No,” I whispered. Abruptly I turned and ran down the hallway, stumbling in the darkness and shuddering with fear. When I reached the door, I fled through it, keeping my head down as I ran. It wasn’t until too late that I realized where I was.
“Wendy!”
I gasped, looked up to see Jane silhouetted in a doorway. Her hair was disheveled and her face sunburned. Over her shoulder two hares hung from a loop of leather cord, their legs tied with vines; her pistol was shoved through her belt. Behind her an open door let in the cool night breeze and the sound of the wind. I was in the front hall. I’d come the wrong way.
“Jane, no— ”
She grinned and let the door slam shut behind her, a sound that echoed through the house like a gunshot. “What is it, Wendy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I whirled frantically, heading for the steps that led upstairs; but it was too late.
“ Who’s that? ”
The voice of Colonel Aselma rang down the corridor, along with the sound of heavy boots. Behind her I could hear Trevor protesting, “The wind, just the wind—” and Giles adding, “It’s only Jane!”
“Wendy?” Jane turned to me, her eyes wide. “What’s happened? Who’s here—”
“You said there were no other guests—” Captain Patrocles’s angry voice boomed down the corridor. A moment later he strode into the foyer, his weapon dangling from one hand. And saw me.
“ It’s her!— ”
In an instant his gun was trained on me, but before he could fire, Colonel Aselma had shoved him aside.
“ No! He wants her alive!”
She lunged and I dropped to the floor, rolling until I slammed into the wall. Colonel Aselma was right behind me, reaching for me with one hand while with the other she wrestled something from her belt.
“ You! ”
I glimpsed Trevor and Giles frozen in the entryway, Patrocles shouting as he swung his weapon between them and Jane. Then I felt Colonel Aselma’s fingers closing about my ankle.
“No—” I choked, kicking at her. She swore and I kicked again, harder this time and aiming for her face. I felt the plate covering her forehead crack beneath my blow, and struck again at the other side of her head. Shouting with pain, she dropped back, her hand sliding from me. I staggered to my feet and bolted for the stairs. Behind me I heard Trevor yelling desperately.
“Wendy—for Christ’s sake don’t, wait—Jane, no ! ”
There was an explosive retort, followed by a scream; then another thunderous roar. For a moment I was blinded. A roiling ball of heat and flame rushed through the room, as though the floor had suddenly opened onto an inferno, and then was gone. I was thrown against the wall with such force that for a moment everything seemed to be frozen around me. Motes of golden light hung in the still air. Jane pointed at the doorway into the hall, her face absolutely devoid of any expression. Colonel Aselma knelt with her hand poised above the gun at her hip. Then like an echo of that first explosion there was another, smaller boom, followed by an echoing retort. A pane of glass in one of the foyer windows shattered, and suddenly everything began to move again. I started to race up the steps, then heard a cry that pierced me like a shaft of ice. I stopped and looked back down.
On the floor a figure—no, two figures—sprawled side to side. The first was Captain Patrocles. He lay upon his chest, arms outflung as though desperately grasping for something. The barrel of his weapon protruded from beneath him, its smooth surface blue-white with heat and sending up a single gray plume of smoke. His eyes were wide; two of his bottom teeth were gone, and most of his jaw. He was quite obviously dead.
Beside him Trevor Mallory was stretched out on his back. One arm crossed his breast so that his hand rested upon his heart. The other was extended across the floor, palm upward, the fingers delicately curled as though they held something precious. He was unmoving. Beside him lay his enhancer, its edges slightly crumpled. A perfect star-shaped hole had been blasted through his forehead.
“You bitch. ” A voice cried out, so charged with hatred and rage that I instinctively ducked, looking around for Colonel Aselma.
But the voice wasn’t hers. It was Jane’s. She stood in the middle of the foyer, her face twisted from weeping as she aimed her pistol to where Colonel Aselma stood a few feet from the two corpses.
“You killed him, you—” Jane sobbed, and in the silence I could hear the barrel of her ancient gun turn over. Behind her Giles crouched, dazed.
“Don’t be a fool,” hissed Colonel Aselma. “You can’t possibly win, you know, just put the gun down and come with me—” But her expression belied her words: her eyes were wide, her mouth set in a tight line as she fumbled at her belt.
“Goody-bye,” choked Jane, holding her gun so tightly that the muscles in her hands were knotted red and white. Then, closing her eyes, she fired.
The retort sent Jane reeling backward. Colonel Aselma’s body crumpled; she took one staggering step and toppled beside her partner. I cried out and ran down the steps, nearly falling as I raced toward Jane. Only when I had my arms around her did I look back at Colonel Aselma. A ragged hole blackened her chest; I recalled the body armor lying on the floor of the living room.