Trellis

11

I'm not sure what happened, and neither are the remaining two. We all agreed on one detail, however: a blinding flash of light, and then the attackers were on the floor, unconscious. We were about to leave, but Rima wanted to stay.

'Did you see who shot her?'

Neither of us did.

He waits for our attackers to return to consciousness. Blinking, confused, they sit up, eyes unfocused.

'I can't see,' says the conductor.

'Good.' Rima bends down, wiping his eyes with his gloves. 'It would be more painful for you if you could.'

He gulps.

'Which one of you shot her?'

'I don't know!'

'Ah, well.' He snatches a gun from the nearest policeman, who makes a half-hearted attempt to take it back. 'I see all six bullets are intact here. A revolver? Seriously?'

'And here,' he checks the next one, 'not this. And—oh. Here we go. One life for another, I guess?'

'Rima—'

'Don't.'

We all look towards what we have been averting our gazes from. Rima removes Intiga's bracelet, slides his own off, and uses hers. As the little black scales unfurl all over his body, he activates the power that had been hers.

And I understand what he is doing. I wrestle Cresswell to the ground as he advances.

He has earned the right to this.

The man screams when he touches him. Kertel stops fighting, staring in horror and revulsion at whatever is behind me.

Dust. Nothing but dust, and several terrified men.

'Let's leave.' Rima slides his own bracelet back on and goes back to the station platform. We follow, Kertel looking too shocked to speak. 

I activate my own suit and use the wings for shelter from the rain. On second thoughts, I offer it to the others too. Kertel accepts, but Rima remains standing at the platform, letting the rain soak him through. I wonder if he is doing it to hide his tears.

When he turns around, it is with a steely resolve.

'We're taking the bus,' he says. 'This is the city of Cyrene. Dense population. No one will notice us.'

On the bus, Rima goes to sleep again. I let him. He has had enough. Kertel, without her usual jumpiness, was staring out of the window, occasionally reaching a hand up to wipe at her eyes.

I have a good mind to follow Rima's example and lose all consciousness for a while. When I adjust my seat, my fingers brush against something sticking out of my pocket.

It is a cylinder, incredibly reminiscent of a holder for a letter when people used to send them by pigeon. I open it and out slides a piece of paper.

You thought the attack today was purely coincidental, didn't you?

Love, Blair

I start shivering, and immediately try to stop myself in case someone notices. 

She did it, sent them after me. As a message. If I don't do it, then she will. 

But why, then, did she ask for me to do it in the first place? As some sort of psychological torture? But why?

I sit there for several minutes, as gears begin to turn in an increasingly unpleasant manner.

We need to get out of Arcadia. Now.

'What's that you're reading?'

Kertel's face darkens as she reads the letter.

'Who exactly are you working for, Kasseida?'

Later, in a dark backstreet alley, I explain everything. With a few lies scattered here and there, of course.

'She contacted you to sabotage this mission?'

'Yes.'

'And you agreed?'

'Yes.'

Kertel shakes her head. 'I should have seen that coming. You never liked the Arcadian government...'

Rima, leaning against a wall, turns his gaze to me.

'Did you kill Dreis?'

I think quickly. 'No. He might have run into someone in that house.'

'And the conductor...that was her warning to you? To kill one of us?'

'Yes.'

Rima's eyes glaze over as he tries to think.

'But why—'

'Precisely. She's in league with the Arcadian government. And this is my sentence.'

'For what?'

'Isn't it obvious? Leaking information. It's all I can do.'

'But that means...' He runs a hand through his hair. 'Good Lord.'

'We have to run. Can't go by plane, the risks are too high. Let's just say that every Arcadian official wants us dead.'

'What do we do?'

I look at Kertel. 'No idea.'

'If we can even get past border security...I doubt our fake identities will make any difference. We've got death warrants. But—' A smile tugs at her lips. '—if they don't know it's us who's leaving...'

'Not the train, Cresswell!'

She puts a hand on Rima's shoulder. 'We'll get motion sickness pills later. So far, let's just focus on getting back to Gretya without anyone noticing.'