The Gauntlet (The Cage 3)

How could she continue without Lucky?

She sniffled, running a hand beneath her nose. He’d never be back amid his family. No oak trees and lemonade. No summer wildflowers and fresh-cut grass.

She heard footsteps and glanced over her shoulder. Bonebreak and Anya were coming back from the Axion station, loaded down with various containers and bags. She wiped at her nose again—she could smell Bonebreak’s reek even from this distance. Anya trailed behind him, eyes darting between the shallow grave and the ship. Her forehead was pinched tightly, as though something were bothering her. Cora’s worry returned. Had something happened in the station?

Bonebreak handed her two of the heavy containers before she could ask. “Your hair fetched us twenty tokens’ worth of supplies! They said they haven’t gotten such long hair in a hundred rotations. Now the next stop is Drogane. My brother and his family. Hospitality. Good food.”

“And the Gauntlet,” Cora prompted.

“Yes, yes.” He waved dismissively. “Freedom for your people and all that. But first, food.”

He climbed into the ship. Willa made a few of the sign language symbols to Anya, who turned away as though she hadn’t seen and started to climb the ladder. Cora rested a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

“Hey, you okay? Did something happen in there with the Axion?”

Anya shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s . . . it’s just a headache.” Her eyes drifted to the crumpled wildflower she had dropped before. “Probably because of the weird gravity.”

She pressed her hands against the sides of her forehead. Something felt off, and it took Cora a second to realize that Anya’s hands, for once, weren’t shaking.

Anya climbed the ladder, leaving Cora below with Willa, who stared after Anya. Willa turned to Cora and raised an eyebrow in question, then jotted down a note.

Seems like more than just a headache to me.

Cora nodded, staring after Anya, and then looked at the crumpled flower. “Yeah, you might be right. Maybe she’s still upset because the plants here are so much like on Earth. Because she can’t remember what home was like. Just give her time. She’s been through so much.”

Willa nodded, then looked uneasily back at the Axion station.

Cora traced her gaze and said hesitantly, “I heard it was the Axion who experimented on you.”

The light in Willa’s eyes dimmed, and Cora couldn’t be certain whether Willa feared the Axion, or was grateful to them, or felt something else entirely.

“Do you know why they did it?”

Willa shook her head. She cradled her skull in one hand as though remembering something painful, then climbed the ladder, anxious to escape those memories.

Cora was left alone on Fuel Station Theta.

She turned back to take in Lucky’s grave. She wanted to remember every detail about it. The willowlike tree. The flowers. The breeze.

“Good-bye, Lucky,” she whispered.

She climbed into the hatch.

In another few moments, they were far from the Axion fuel station, headed for Drogane.

12

Rolf

AS THE SUN BEGAN to sink toward Armstrong’s horizon, Rolf doubled over, coughing from the thick dust that still filled the air after the main tent had collapsed. Overhead, bright lights flashed as the Kindred shuttle took off.

Rolf spit a curse after them. “Good riddance. I hope you never come back!”

He heard footsteps and turned quickly, ready to fight off any of Ellis’s rogue deputies who had survived the tent collapse, but was surprised to see Dane, limping slightly, his uniform singed.

“I thought you were leaving with Cora,” Rolf said warily.

“I thought so, too,” Dane said, breathing hard. “But . . . plans changed. There was only time for one of us to board, either me or Willa, and I . . . I sacrificed myself so that Willa could escape.”

Rolf raised his eyebrows.

Dane motioned to his limp. “I had a tussle with some Kindred guards who were chasing us, but they let me go. It was Cora they were after, not me.” He looked up toward the sky. “At least she’s safe now.” He sighed dramatically. “That’s what’s important.”

Rolf observed cautiously as Dane sank onto a crate, wincing. Rolf hadn’t known Dane, other than what Cora had told him, and those stories were hardly flattering. But wounded, Dane seemed in no condition to be an immediate threat. “You really did that? Sacrificed yourself?”

Dane nodded. “It was the least I could do.” He wiped his forehead and motioned to the collapsed tent. “The battle?”

“It ended when the tent collapsed. Half the deputies suffocated. Most of the ones who got out are badly wounded. The mine guards and the tent guards called an emergency truce. They moved the wounded to the wives’ tents.”

“A truce?” Dane shook his head. “It won’t last. Not until there’s a new sheriff to replace Ellis.” He stood up, hobbling toward the tents.

“Where are you going?”

“If everyone else is occupied with the wounded,” Dane said, “they don’t need us there. We’d be more useful here, burying the dead.”

Rolf frowned. “You should go to the wives’ tents too, and get patched up. That leg looks bad.”

“I’m okay. Besides, that sun’s getting lower. We should bury the bodies before it gets dark.” He hobbled toward the tent with determination.

Rolf glanced over his shoulder at one of the smaller tents, where Keena and the other deputies had taken Nok for safety. He should go to her, make certain she was all right. He took a step toward the tent.

“Hey, I think this guy’s alive!” Dane called.

Rolf paused, then turned back and hurried to help Dane. If there were survivors, he had to do what he could. Dane knelt near the edge of the collapsed tent, where a pale hand stuck out. Rolf helped Dane lift the heavy canvas and pull the man’s body out. It was one of the deputies, the young one with the weak chin who had almost revealed Nok was pregnant during their processing. They dragged the body into the sand and Rolf crouched beside it, feeling for a pulse.

He shook his head. “He’s gone.”

Dane started pulling out another body, calling to Rolf to help. Rolf glanced again at Nok’s tent, wanting to check on her, but Dane was right—the day’s heat had made the bodies begin to putrefy. They needed to bury them soon, and anyway, he hated the idea of Nok seeing so much death like this. It was grueling work, but soon they had a row of bodies lined up on the sand. No survivors.

Dane was pacing, agitated. “None of them are Ellis. We have to find Ellis.”

Rolf scrunched up his nose. “She’s dead. She isn’t going anywhere.”

“Rolf!”

He turned at the sound of his name. Nok was coming out of the tent with Keena on one side and Loren on the other. Dane abruptly stopped searching the bodies, stepped back, and wiped his face of sweat. Nok ran up and threw her arms around Rolf. She wasn’t wearing the apron, and he felt the full press of her belly against his own.

“You’re feeling okay?” he asked.

She nodded, then looked at Dane. “What’s he doing here?”

Dane held his hands up in a gesture of peace. “You can trust me—just ask Rolf. I had the chance to leave, but I stayed behind. I wanted to help.”

Keena snorted, which turned into one of her deep coughs. “He’s a mutineer. We should send him headfirst into the mine.”

“We were planning to overthrow Ellis,” Dane agreed quickly. “But only because she was a tyrant. And it wasn’t even my idea. I’m not interested in leading. Only peace.”

“Is that right?” Keena eyed the row of corpses. “Then why are you out here digging through the dead bodies?”

“We’re . . . we’re burying them,” Rolf explained. Wasn’t it obvious?

Keena shook her head. “I know what you’re up to, Dane. You’re looking for Ellis’s body. You want to get your grubby hands on that badge, don’t you?”

Dane glared at her in sile

nce.

“He thinks whoever has the badge automatically becomes sheriff,” Keena said. “But that isn’t how it works. Though the badge is important.”

Keena coughed harder and then signaled for two deputies to lift the heavy canvas of the tent closest to where the platform had been. “Ellis took power by killing the previous sheriff, Randall,” she explained. “Randall took power by killing the sheriff before that, and . . . well, you get the idea.” Keena peeked inside, made a face at the rank smell of bodies in the heat, and then took out her handkerchief and coughed more. “I’m afraid you’re the only one small enough to climb in there, Rolf.”

Rolf folded his arms. “You want me to go in there? For a piece of metal?” He shook his head.