The Hunt (The Cage 2)

“I told you that not everything was a lie.” He crossed to a cabinet and handed her a thin towel. There was no mirror in his quarters, only the dull reflection of the black panel. In it, she saw that almost every inch of her skin was caked in sand or blood or sweat.

I killed a man, she thought, and her hands started to shake. But at least it hadn’t been for nothing. Lucky was eighteen now, not nineteen. Safe.

She scrubbed the towel over her face. As thin as it was, it absorbed dirt almost magnetically, and when she was done, there was no sign of her fight with Roshian except the torn dress. She couldn’t possibly return to the stage in that condition, but maybe that was just as well. There were some things you couldn’t come back from.

Cassian disappeared into the bedroom; the sounds of cabinets opening and closing followed. Cora sank into the single chair, staring at the empty square glass. It felt like years ago since they had sat here, drinking and sharing stories about each other’s worlds. That night had been the start of something forbidden but undeniable between them, that had come crashing down when he’d betrayed her. And now here she was, her life and her future in his hands once more—but this time she was the one doing the lying.

He returned to the main room. He had cleaned up and was tying knots along the side of a fresh uniform. A triangle of copper-colored skin flashed from the unknotted top of his shirt, showing a deep scar there that, if extended, would match the smaller one on the side of his neck.

“You’ve never told me how you got that scar.”

He still didn’t look at her, though his mouth twitched darkly, like the memory either pained or amused him. “Perhaps I will tell you one day. Or perhaps Mali will.”

“Mali was there?”

“Mali gave it to me. There was a time when she thought I was the enemy, though I was only attempting to help her. She understands that now. I am still waiting for you to reach a similar realization.”

His voice had gained an edge.

He finished tying the knots, then grabbed a pair of boots from a cabinet. “I must dispose of Roshian’s body. Tessela can hide it for a short period of time, but we cannot risk anyone discovering it and alerting the Council. If they were to learn of any of this, everything we’ve worked for would be destroyed. They would restrain you for murder—it doesn’t matter that he was human. You would have no chance of running the Gauntlet. No chance of freedom. You would be lucky if you ever got to speak to another human.”

“What about Roshian’s rifle? It’s human-made. It could be useful if anything goes wrong.”

“It is too dangerous to hold on to anything that could be traced back to him,” Cassian said. “But if anything ever happens to me, go to Fian or Tessela. They are ready at all times to enact the secondary plan, should it come to that.”

“Which is . . . ?”

“Free humanity ourselves. Destroy the enclosures. Remove the human wards from menageries and private owners. Take them all to a neutral satellite station until we can establish a more permanent colony.” His fingers flew over the thick laces of his boots. “But that would mean war. There are only several hundred Kindred sympathetic to our cause, on a station of two million. Chances of success would be minimal.”

He finished lacing the second boot and then started to slide on a pair of gloves, glancing at her torn gown. “I will bring you a replacement dress. Until then, you will find clean clothes in the bedroom. Try to rest.”

She could feel his agitation in every step. He was already halfway to the door.

“Wait,” she said.

He stopped, the left glove only halfway over his hand, and turned slowly.

“We need to talk about what happens now.” She took a deep breath. “And I don’t mean now that I’ve killed a man. I mean, what happens now. Now that you’ve read Leon’s mind. Now that you know I never intended to put myself at risk by running the Gauntlet, but meant to cheat it instead. And humiliate you in the process.” She laid her hands flat on the table and seriously wished that empty glass was full of something that would make this conversation easier.

Not the slightest trace of surprise showed on his face. As she’d suspected, he had already known.

He slowly peeled off the the left glove, as though all his previous hurry had vanished. Slowly, he approached the table. For a second, Roshian’s black eyes flashed into her head. Behind the disguise he must have had human eyes, and a human mind, and a human body. She wished she could brush a hand over Cassian’s eyes and have him be just as human.

“I know that you read Leon’s mind,” she said quietly. “I saw it in your face.”

His face gave nothing away.

“Uncloak, Cassian. Please. I don’t want to talk to a statue about this.”

For the count of a few breaths he remained motionless, though she suspected his thoughts must be churning as violently as her own. At last, he dragged over a bench to sit across from her.

“I will not uncloak,” he said slowly. “Uncloaked, I cannot read your thoughts. And what I want from you is the truth. So no masking your thoughts with pain.”

Before she could react, his hand clamped over hers to prevent her from pinching herself. She drew in a sharp breath. He hadn’t put the gloves back on yet and the electric sensation prickled her skin.

“Leon’s mind is a confusing place,” he said. “It is filled with self-doubt and false bravado. I could not read all the details. Only that you never intended to go through with my plan to prove humanity’s intelligence to the Council. That you were only training with me so that you could learn to control the testers’ minds to cheat your way to freedom. I assume all that is true.”

She swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I really am. But I meant what I said. If you expect humanity to excel, we have to play by our own rules, not yours. I have to prove our worth my own way.”

“By cheating.”

“In this case, yes.”

He let out a harsh laugh. “I thought your species demonstrated higher values. I thought you were ready for self-governance.”

“We are,” she whispered urgently. “You told me yourself how dangerous the Gauntlet puzzles can be. Isn’t it the definition of being intelligent to find a way around that risk? Self-preservation? I can cheat the Gauntlet, and then, if you’re right about someone tampering with the algorithm’s predictions, there’s a chance we could go home.”

“Perhaps.”

She was surprised he didn’t contradict her, though there was a strangely hard edge to his voice.

“But there would be consequences you cannot foresee,” he added.

“What consequences?”

He didn’t answer.

“Look,” she said, “you would be humiliated, I get it. But a little bruised pride is nothing compared to what you did to me. You—” Her voice hitched. “You gave me hope and then crush

ed it.”

The wall panel hummed softly, like a trapped insect, and for a while it drowned out all other noise. Then he curled his fingers around hers. “It was all so you, and your kind, could have a better life.”

“Roshian nearly killed me. Is that better?”

He leaned in. “I blame myself for not foreseeing his intentions.” His hands were growing warmer. He glanced at the door, as though remembering the body bleeding out into the savanna sand that, if found, would ruin them both. “Sometimes I think the Council is right when they insist humans are of a lesser intelligence, because that is the only way to explain such a senseless plan to cheat the Gauntlet. And to solicit the Mosca’s help is even more foolish. Just because Leon lives among them does not make them loyal. Everything is a whim for them, whatever they feel like that day, betraying a promise or keeping it.” He shook his head. “Your plan is foolhardy.”

“Maybe the Mosca aren’t trustworthy,” she said. “But neither are you.”

“You said you forgave me.”

She looked down at her hands. “I lied.”

His fingers curled harder around hers. “I’ve done everything for you. I took you from a dying planet. I gave you a world where you could be happy. I gave you a partner who was perfectly matched for you. I’m risking everything to expand your mind, so that you, and all your kind, don’t have to live like animals anymore. I am risking my life and my own freedom—as are Tessela and Fian and many others—because we believe in our mission to free humanity. We are doing this for you.” His hands were shaking now. Try as he might, his emotional cloak was slipping. “Even now, I am bending every rule to find out if your home planet is still in existence, though we both know it would mean that I’d never see you again. And you throw it all back at me like I have done nothing.”

At last, he let her go and stood. “Fian and I will bury Roshian’s body. But I will not let you go through with this foolish plan to cheat the Gauntlet. Either you will agree to run it honestly or we abandon all our plans right here. You can return to the Hunt and survive as long as you can behind bars, until you turn nineteen and they drag you off to an even worse place. Tell me, right now. No lies. No deceptions. What do you choose?”