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“There are ladders carved into the rocks, connecting a series of paths you can’t see from this angle. The route’s steep and the ledges are narrow, but it’s the best way. I’ll head to the women’s camp. If I find Hector, I’ll bring him back.”

  “That’s your plan?” Burn says with more than a hint of disdain. “There are five of us and you’re going down alone?”

  “I know some of them,” she says. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I could care less about you,” Burn says.

  Morag’s shoulders twitch, and I touch her arm.

  Burn’s scowling. If he and Morag talked last night, apparently it didn’t go well. But Burn has a point.

  “He’s right, Morag. You shouldn’t go alone. We’ve all got Gifts to protect us.”

  Morag nods slowly.

  “I think we should all go down and head toward the women’s camp,” I say. “As soon as we know where my father is, we’ll plan from there.”

  “Ready?” Morag rises to a crouch.

  With a yelp, she backs up quickly, falling over. A head rises from the edge of the pit.

  “Cal!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” My voice shakes, but I’m not sure whether it’s from happiness or confusion or fear.

  “You know this guy?” Morag asks, and we all nod. “Okay. We should get moving while they’re sleeping most soundly.”

  Cal grins at me as his head drops below the edge. I lean out and see that he’s descending steps carved into the stone. I follow. The jutting stones serve as both hand- and footholds, and I go down quickly to the narrow ledge that’s about three feet wide and slopes sharply.

  As soon as my feet hit the ledge, Cal hugs me. The hug feels awkward and goes on too long. I push back on his shoulders. “Why aren’t you with the FA?”

  “Aren’t you glad to see me?” He bends to kiss me.

  I dodge his lips and back away. What’s going on with him?

  Burn reaches his hand toward Cal. “Hey. Good to see you. Did you come with Drake and Jayma?”

  Cal pauses before shaking Burn’s hand. “I followed them. To make sure they were safe. Why are you guys here?”

  “My dad’s down there,” I tell Cal.

  “I’m sorry.” He reaches to hug me again.

  I sidestep out of his way, and he stumbles toward the edge of the narrow path. His arms windmill.

  I lunge, but Burn is faster. He grabs Cal’s belt and yanks, throwing Cal back toward the stone wall.

  I look down. If he’d gone over, nothing would have stopped him before the bottom of the pit.

  Drake jumps off the ladder. “That was a close one.”

  “No kidding.” Cal brushes dust off his pants.

  I overreacted to the hug. Cal and I are friends. He knows I’m with Burn and was just being friendly. I don’t know how to be around him right now.

  Jayma jumps off the ladder and waves hello to Cal.

  “Let’s get moving,” I say.

  In single file, the six of us head down the steep path, keeping close to the wall. Even though it’s shadowed, I feel exposed.

  At the end of each stretch of path, there’s another ladder leading down to the next section. When we reach the bottom, we keep tight along the wall, then turn to our right and follow along the edge of the deeper pit. One misstep and we’ll plummet to our deaths, but if we walk too far from the drop, we’ll wade through Shredders.

  They’re spread over the dust and rocks, sleeping—I hope—and their weapons litter the ground. Not far ahead, a spear stands straight up, and when we get closer, I realize it’s stuck through someone. Dark blood stains the ground beneath the impaled body.

  It looks like these Shredders don’t compost their dead, or even burn them, although I’m not sure why this surprises me.

  Suddenly, the head on the body turns. He opens his eyes.

  I jump and clamp my palm over my mouth.

  “What’s wrong?” Burn’s hand is on my shoulder instantly.

  “I thought that Shredder was dead.”

  Burn raises his spear and drives it straight through the Shredder’s head. He turns to me. “Seemed best to put him out of his misery.”

  I cringe, but now the Shredder can’t yell out to raise the alarm.

  In front of us, Jayma is walking alongside Drake, her head turned into his chest. I don’t blame her. And I’m glad she didn’t see what Burn just did. Morag’s in front of them, and Cal’s trailing behind us.

  I step on something soft and nearly lose my balance. A severed hand.

  I cannot let fear take over.

  Morag stops beside a building and we all join her. From here, we’re shielded from the main part of the camp, but we can see the women and a few children.

  “When do the women and children sleep?” I ask.

  “They take turns,” Morag answers.

  In the women’s camp, a small group is gathered around a fire, and it looks as if they’re heating something in a pot. That simple sign of civilization gives me hope. I creep forward a few feet to look past the building to the main camp.

  I see Dad.

  His wrists are tied to two tall poles in the ground. He’s slumped, head down and knees bent, and his entire weight seems to be borne by his straining shoulders.

  I stop myself from heading straight for him. My barreling in would not only be futile, it would get all of us captured. Killed, if we’re lucky. I beckon to the others so they see him, too.

  “I think I see someone I know.” Morag points toward the women’s camp. “I’ll ask her for help. We might be able to distract the guards long enough to get him free.”

  “Those are chains.” I turn toward Burn. “Are you strong enough to break them?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I can break them,” Jayma says. “If I can reach high enough.”

  “I can lift her,” Burn says.

  Jayma looks pale, and Drake pulls her in closer.

  “That sounds like a plan.” I drag my teeth along my dry lower lip. “As long as the guards stay asleep.”

  About five feet behind Dad, a Shredder shifts a sword from one hand to the other. Not asleep. There’s another rock that’s closer, and a foot sticks out from behind it. That guard might be sleeping, but we can’t count on it.

  “Just the two guards?” I ask the group.

  “Hard to be sure.” Morag nods toward the camp. “I’ll go get help.”

  “No.” Drake steps forward. “Let me go. I see my aunt.”

  “Which one is she?” I crane my neck, scanning the faces.

  “Bad idea,” Morag says. “They won’t like a male stepping into their area. It’ll spook them.”

  “She knows me,” Drake says.

  “I’ll go with him,” I say. “It’ll be less threatening if he’s with a female.”

  Cal grunts. He’s got a sour look on his face, and he hasn’t contributed to the planning at all. I wish he’d stayed up top. He’s not safe down here without a Deviance to protect him.

  “Be careful,” Burn says and squeezes my hand. I look up into his dark eyes and feel braver.

  I love you, I think, but I hold the words inside.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  DRAKE AND I walk toward the female Shredders. They seem calm, but they are filthy, covered in scabs, their hair matted. One Shredder, crouching behind the fire, stands and kicks dust toward the others to draw their attention.

  Drake’s armor rises to cover his torso and arms. I glance back. Dad and his captors are blocked from my view now by a building that Burn and Jayma are creeping toward. Morag and Cal watch them intently.

  I scan the female camp again. “Which one is our aunt?” One of the females draws a metal spike from the fire and charges toward us. The metal glows red, and I resist the urge to duck behind my armor-skinned brother. But another Shredder, with ragged black hair, stops the one wielding the weapon.

  “That’s her,” Drake says. “Aunt Olivia.”

 
; She stares at us and I gasp. Her skin is scarred and dark red, like it’s one giant scab, but she has my father’s cheekbones and—I note as she strides toward us—his gait.

  Drake waves and his armor retracts. She has a wild-eyed look, and aunt or not, I’m ready to defend my brother—and myself.

  “Drake,” she says, “you changed your mind.” Her voice is scratchy. “And you brought a mate. Good luck keeping her to yourself.” She looks over to the men.

  “We’re here to get Dad,” Drake says.

  “Hector’s still here?” She glances again toward the male compound, and I see a flash of concern in her eyes. It quickly vanishes, and she kicks dust toward me. “Who’s your girl?”

  “This is my sister. Glory, this is Aunt Olivia.”

  “Hi.” I slowly extend my hand.

  Laughing, she reaches to shake. Drake’s armor rises, and he slams my arm down.

  “Drake!” Rubbing my throbbing arm, I stare at Olivia’s hand. Her palm is covered with hundreds of thin blades that glint in the sunlight.

  “What’s wrong?” She holds both of her blade-covered palms to face me. “Don’t even want to shake hands with your dear auntie?”

  My father risked his life to save her? My jaw tightens and I focus on controlling my Deviance. I know that life out here must have been tough on her, but that doesn’t excuse trying to hurt me—as some kind of joke?

  “Will you help us get Dad?” Drake asks.

  “Hector can leave if he wants.”

  Drake takes a step forward and I fight the urge to pull him back. “I don’t think so,” he says. “He was supposed to be home weeks ago. They’ve got him chained over there, behind that building. He can’t teleport for some reason. I don’t get it. Metal shouldn’t block his Gift.”

  Olivia laughs harshly. “I said he could leave if he wanted to. He’s probably too high.”

  “His feet are only hanging a few inches from the ground,” I say.

  Olivia smirks. “High. Too much dust.”

  “Dust should enhance his Gift.”

  “To a point,” she says, “but it’s called high for a reason. Dust can take you places where your Deviance doesn’t matter—where it’s hard to control, but you no longer care.” She looks directly into my eyes, and the grin on her face chills me. “You’ve never inhaled, have you?”

  I shift my shoulders back. “Sure I have. It’s impossible to live out here without breathing dust.”

  “Some, sure.” She looks around, then strides over to a pile of dust that’s drifted against an uneven cut in the rocky surface. She scoops some up and sashays back, hands held forward, like she’s teasing me with the most precious gift in the world.

  The razors have retracted into her hands, and she slides her palms into a beam of sunlight. As much as I want to look away, I can’t. The sunlight makes the particles of dust sparkle and dance. They reach out to me from my aunt’s palms as if they’re alive, as if they know me. It’s like I can see every individual grain and each is different, and the colors—which appear pale gray in a pile—stand out individually. Golds and pinks and greens and blues. Shimmering silver. Gleaming bronze.

  It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The most enticing. The most tempting. Why have I never really looked at dust before?

  “Glory.” Drake grabs my shoulder and forces me to stand straight.

  I blink. My face was inches from the dust.

  “Oh, come now, nephew,” Olivia says. “It’s not like you don’t know the pleasures. Stop pretending to be so virtuous.” She smiles at me. “He’s not.”

  Drake’s grip tightens on my shoulder.

  His armor’s still up and his fingers dig deeply into my flesh. I cover his hand with mine, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Drake, that hurts.”

  His head snaps toward me, and I barely recognize my brother’s eyes. They’re too wide, too frantic, and I see how hard he’s fighting to resist the dust.

  I move forward, blocking his view of her hands. “Are you going to help us save Dad or not?” I ask Olivia. “We need someone to distract the guards.”

  “It’s just the two of you?”

  “Yes.” Burn and Jayma should be in position by now. I won’t tell her about them unless I have to.

  She lifts her chin. “I’ll help you. On one condition.”

  “What?”

  “He might not want to be saved. You need to understand why. Inhale some dust.”

  “No.”

  “Who told you to fear dust?” Her voice rises. “Your father? Hector lived too many years brainwashed inside that dome. Then when he got out, he moved to another prison where dust is shunned. Here, we’re free.”

  “He’s chained!”

  “Could be his choice. Maybe he’s finally faced the truth.”

  “I don’t believe that. And the women and children here aren’t free, either.” I gesture around. “If you are, then why all the barricades?”

  “We’re all as free as we want to be.” She puts her mouth close to my ear. “What you don’t understand is that the females have the true power here. We set the rules. You’ll see when you join us.”

  “I’ll never join you.”

  “You’re not facing reality. Like I keep telling your dad, embrace what you are. Pining for life BTD is ridiculous. Don’t you think the dust is here for a reason? Don’t you see it made some of us better? We’re meant to use it.” She lifts the dust to my face. “You can’t judge if you don’t understand.”

  Looking at the dust, I shake my head.

  “I won’t help you get Hector until you try.”

  The dust pulls me in.

  Drake grabs my arm.

  I straighten. “I’ll try some after we get Dad.”

  “Do it first.” She steps right up against me, so close I can smell her putrid breath. So close I can see the tiny razor scars on her cheeks, on her dark lips—from her own hands.

  I look into her eyes and grab hold, focusing in on her mind. No one helped me, she thinks. I was expunged and alone out here for twenty years. Why should I help my brother or his kids? Hector had it easy. Time for him to get a taste of my life. Her mind sparks with rage and resentment.

  As I tighten my hold on her brain, she staggers, crying out in pain.

  I close my eyes. “Are you going to help us or not?”

  “You’re powerful.” A smile brushes over her lips. “You’re right. We’re family. I should help.”

  “Thank you.” I look back toward the others.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Olivia asks.

  I turn to her.

  She knees me in the gut.

  I bend, sucking in air as she raises her hands to my face.

  “No!” Drake yells.

  He’s too late. My lungs fill with dust, and my mind ignites with a thousand explosions—beautiful, exciting explosions. Lights spark and fly. Pleasure flicks and flames. Power surges and slams through my entire body.

  I’m dimly aware that Drake’s pushed Olivia down as my head drops back to face the sky. It’s like I’m floating, but grounded at the same time. I don’t remember when I’ve felt so alive, so whole, so free.

  I raise my head and offer my hand to my aunt. She stares at her own before taking mine, and her palm is razor free as I pull her to her feet.

  “Now,” she says. “Now, you’re ready to see truth.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  DRAKE AND I follow Olivia. We keep low and silent behind her clomping strides. I have to give her credit: there’s nothing suspicious or tentative in the way she moves. Olivia looks like she’s got her own reasons to head toward the guards.

  My mind’s spinning impossibly fast. Everything’s changed: the sun is brighter; the rocks are sharper; the air is sweeter. Every sense is turned up to high—and it’s like the dust has unleashed new ones. I can taste every scent on the breeze and see individual minerals and elements in the stone. And as we pass a group of sleeping males, I can hear their
heartbeats. I smell—I feel—the rotting tang of their breath as they snore.

  The power’s incredible, intoxicating.

  We approach the spot where they’re holding my father. There’s no movement from either guard. One’s still sleeping and the other hasn’t noticed us. If Burn and Jayma are near, they’re well hidden.

  Besides the two guards, three other Shredders are scattered nearby, sleeping. From forty feet away, I can sense everything about them, almost like I’m locked onto them with my Gift.

  My Deviance seems so much stronger on dust.

  Drake and I stop while Olivia continues. I spy Jayma on Burn’s back as he crouches at the side of a building that’s so rusted I’m surprised it’s still standing. Above them, a jagged piece of metal hangs like a dagger.

  That metal could slice Jayma when they rise. But I trust Burn. He’ll keep Jayma safe—if he can. Olivia calls out to the guard closest to us.

  “Come here.” Olivia beckons for the guard to follow her behind a slab of rock.

  “What do you want?” the guard asks.

  “You,” Olivia says. She puts one hand under her breast and the other between her legs.

  I cringe. We asked her to create a distraction, but her repulsive solution will handle only one of the guards—at best.

  “How about a preview?” the guard says. “Show me what you’ve got.” He drops his weapon to the ground, and the clatter echoes through the camp. One of the nearby Shredders turns in his sleep.

  Her eyes on the guard, Olivia gyrates her hips and turns as she slowly lifts her shirt. I hiss softly. Her stomach is a crisscross of raised black scars on red flesh. Some of the scars are straight and thin, like the ones on her face—and obviously made by her hands—but others are longer and deeper.

  She might not want to leave this camp, but I understand why my father’s been trying so hard to convince her.

  Bending at the waist, she displays her backside to the guard. He reaches her in seconds and lifts her off her feet from behind. She struggles in his arms.

  I want to help her, but Drake stops me.

  “She knows what she’s doing.”

  I hope he’s right. Burn runs toward Dad as he lifts Jayma from his back to his shoulders.