The Gauntlet (The Cage 3)

“Tessela is going to want to hear this. Hang on. Shoukry!”

Another face popped around the corner. Mali recognized the Hunt bartender’s kind dark eyes, which lit up in surprise when he saw her.

“Shoukry,” Makayla said, “tell Tessela we have company.”

He nodded and disappeared down the hall.

Mali looked over the animals in the dusty warehouse, taking in Makayla’s dress, which was now torn and dirty, as though she’d been in a battle. “What happened?”

“Not long after you escaped, all hell broke loose. Kindred started fighting against Kindred. I’ve never seen anything like it. Tessela came to free us and the animals—as many as we were able to get out of there. She’s leading a group of rebels against the Kindred Council. They’ve stormed a flight room and loaded most of the animals and the other kids on a ship to Armstrong. We’re leaving in minutes. You should come, too.”

“Armstrong isn’t the paradise the Kindred told you it was,” Mali said, exchanging a look with Leon. “And now the sheriff there is dead. It’s even more unstable than ever.”

Makayla took this in for a moment, scratching her ear, and then sighed. “Any place has to be safer than here. They’re bombing every level. Sooner or later they’ll find us.”

Shoukry returned, exchanging a few words with a Kindred woman in a form-fitting gray uniform, her straight dark hair loose around her shoulders.

“Tessela,” Mali said in relief.

“Mali?” Tessela shook her head. “You two are fools to have returned to the station. You’re lucky Makayla found you and not Arrowal’s troops.”

Tessela’s eyes were clear and her movements were fluid—she was uncloaked. Tessela had been Cassian’s second in command after Fian, but now that Fian had betrayed them, Tessela was the only Kindred left who Mali knew they could trust.

“We had to return,” Mali said. Shoukry stepped forward to hand her a flask of water, which she guzzled and then handed to Leon. “We came back for Cassian.”

Tessela shook her head in regret. “We’ve had no luck trying to free him. We thought three hundred Kindred were sympathetic to our cause, but only half that rose up with us. We’re using tactics developed on Earth: guerrilla warfare. We’ve lasted this long, but we can’t fight much longer. Arrowal set off an electromagnetic pulse that rendered all our guns useless. We only barely managed to flee down here. Cassian’s two levels up and they have every hall closed off. There’s no way to reach him.”

Mali turned to Leon. “Could the tunnels get us there?”

Leon scratched his chin. “You and me, yeah. The Kindred can’t fit.”

Tessela wiped an arm over the grime on her face. “That’s brave of you, but without weapons, it’s impossible.”

“We do have weapons,” Mali said. “Or at least, we know where to get them.” She glanced at Makayla and Shoukry, who had known the Hunt menagerie even better than she had. “Kill-dart guns that Dane used to control animals. They work with low-tech mechanics. The electromagnetic pulse won’t have affected them.”

Tessela’s eyebrows rose. She glanced at Makayla, who nodded. “It’s true. Once they arrested Dane and made me Head Ward, they told me about them.” She looked at Mali. “You know the code to access them?”

Mali nodded. “Cora told us.”

Tessela still looked doubtful. “Even with functioning weapons, it would be dangerous to go after Cassian. The ship for Armstrong leaves in moments. It’s a cargo vessel, slow but safe. It will arrive in fourteen days. You should be on it now, or you might not get another chance.”

Leon snorted. “Sorry, lady. We aren’t leaving without Cassian.”

Makayla grabbed Mali’s arm. “This is good-bye, then. Shoukry and I have to get on that ship with the last of the animals.”

“Our friends are on Armstrong,” Mali said. “Nok and Rolf. Ask for them—they will help you.”

“We will.” Makayla pulled her into another embrace. “Good luck.” She and Shoukry turned and ran down the hall toward the flight room.

“Come,” Tessela said. “We must hurry.”

As she led them down the hallways, she described where Cassian was being imprisoned and explained in quick bursts about the Fifth of Five’s uprising: how as soon as Cassian was arrested and Cora escaped the station, they stormed the station’s control center. Cloaked Kindred soldiers fought back, led by Arrowal, but members of the Fifth of Five managed to free two menageries of humans and animals and were preparing to free a third.

“Arrowal’s troops outnumber us three to one,” Tessela said. “The odds are against us, but we’re staying strong. Be cautious—even if you free Cassian, this level might soon be overrun. And there’s nowhere else to go. We’re at the bottom of the station.”

Mali opened her mouth to speak.

Before she could, a volley of laser pulses ricocheted on the level just above them.

All eyes turned toward the ceiling.

Tessela’s face was heavy with foreboding. “They’ve found us. All we can do now is hold out as long as we can, and hope they can’t get through.”

16

Cora

ON DROGANE, CORA SOON learned what Bonebreak meant when he said days there didn’t pass the same way as they did on Earth. In the darkness of the hollow mountain, any hint of the exterior sun was gone. Instead the Mosca counted time by the throbbing of the glowworms, which pulsed consistently for what Cora calculated, using the time conversion clock the Mosca children made for her, to be around fifty-seven Earth hours, and then shut off for twelve.

Cora spent every day practicing her training. Levitation with Anya and solving mental puzzles with Willa, as well as keeping to a strict physical regimen: push-ups until she collapsed; agility until her toes went numb; running up and down the ramp that circled Ironmage’s building twenty laps a day.

She reached the tenth floor—Ironmage’s home—just as her leg muscles threatened to give out. Twenty. Done. Her forehead was slick with sweat. She walked onto the suspended balcony outside Ironmage’s door and collapsed on the terrace, chest heaving as she caught her breath. Around her, eerie white plants that got their nutrients from the air hung from the balcony railings, overlooking the dark subterranean city of Tern.

She checked her time against the conversion clock. Four minutes faster than the day before.

Better.

Chest still heaving, she forced herself to sit up. Training wasn’t over yet.

She adjusted her goggles and took out Lucky’s journal. She’d spent time each day after her physical regimen going through it, soaking up Lucky’s words, remembering him.

Everything that’s alive must die. If you can, give it a good life first. . . .

Lightweight, nearly inaudible footsteps sounded behind her and she put do

wn the journal. Willa approached across the balcony, goggles knotted behind her head. For the last week they’d run through intellectual drills every afternoon, multiplying by fractions and rhyming difficult words, but Willa still hadn’t said anything about her own experience in the Gauntlet. The chimp swung herself up to perch on the railing in a way that made Cora’s head spin, but Willa only looked down calmly at the hundred-foot fall. Willa pointed to Lucky’s journal.

“Yeah,” Cora said. “I practically have it all memorized by now. I wish you’d known him. His granddad taught him a moral code. Not like the Kindred’s code—it doesn’t have anything to do with logic, but rather kindness. Listen to this.” She read, “‘Don’t make anything suffer just because you can’t stomach what needs to be done. Be true to the soul of the world.’”

Willa nodded. She reached out a hand, touching Cora’s heart, and Cora nodded back.

“That’s right,” Cora said. “Heart. That’s what Lucky was all about. That’s why his words are going to help me in the Gauntlet.” She frowned as she tucked the journal back into her pocket. “You know, I keep thinking about Rolf and Nok. And all the people we left behind on Armstrong. It was chaos. What if another bad sheriff took over? They could be enslaved again, or worse.” Cora tried not to think about all those dead bodies under the tent.

Willa handed her a note.

. . . Or they could be thriving. They were strong. Believe in them.

Cora smiled. “Thanks. I needed that.” She sighed. “Time for more multiplication tables?”

But Willa shook her head. She jumped down from the railing and waved Cora over to one of the low benches on the balcony. She patted the seat next to her and then held out a note.

We have only eleven human days left. It’s time to practice something real.

Cora looked up in surprise. “You mean a real intellectual puzzle from the Gauntlet?” She dropped her voice. “One of the ones you solved when you ran it?” A thrill ran through her, thinking about getting real information at last.

Willa nodded.