The Gauntlet (The Cage 3)

Bonebreak and Ironmage climbed out, reaching in a hand to help out Willa, and then Anya, and finally Cora. She climbed out shakily into the garage, hugging her arms for warmth, and then froze.

Fian stood at the entrance ramp, with the entire Kindred delegation behind him.

She tried to keep her face calm, not give away how badly her heart was racing. Just the sight of that deep wrinkle in his brow made her feverish with rage. Behind him, six Kindred aides stood at attention. Two more uniformed Kindred flanked him—one Cora didn’t recognize on his left and, on his right, Serassi.

She immediately straightened. Serassi? What was the medical officer doing as part of the Council political delegation?

Serassi folded her arms calmly as their eyes met. Cora’s jaw clenched. Once, Serassi had been an ally of theirs, or at least neutral. But the cold look on her face now said that truce had passed.

The structure creaked. Cora glanced at the high windows of the docking module. The walls swayed slightly. The storm was still pounding outside.

Bonebreak adjusted his mask and eyed the Kindred delegation. “Where’s your Chief Assessor?”

The smirk on Fian’s face faded. “Arrowal has been detained on station 10-91, dealing with an . . . irregularity. He sent me in his place. I will serve as the Kindred Chief Assessor.”

Cora shifted uneasily—Cassian was on station 10-91. It was where Mali and Leon had gone to try to get him back. Could their rescue attempt be connected to this “irregularity”? As though sensing her discomfort, Willa moved closer. She made a small hand gesture that Cora took to be a reassurance that everything would be okay.

Serassi leaned close to Fian and whispered a few words.

Fian nodded.

“Come,” Fian said to Cora and the others as he motioned to a corridor. “The other delegations await us in the central vestibule. I’d hate to keep them waiting, though none of us expect to be here long. We don’t anticipate that you will complete the first round.”

She tossed him a glare. All around them, the metal walls creaked eerily as the storm pounded, but none of the Mosca or Kindred seemed troubled.

The corridor opened up to the wide central chamber that she’d seen with Bonebreak, only now it felt closed off and dark, like a tomb. Lights in the ceiling shone gloomily over the dais with its four chairs. Four doors off the central vestibule led to four smaller chambers—the recess rooms. A row of monitors on the wall scrolled with some kind of coded language Cora couldn’t read. As soon as they entered, voices died down.

The other delegations stood.

There were about thirty figures in all, a mix of Gatherer, Mosca, and Axion. She tried not to stare at the strange sight of the Gatherer delegation, with their eight-foot-tall frames, long faces, and willowy fingers. They wore simple gray robes with a row of pockets at the base and more pockets at waist level. Monks, Bonebreak had called them. Boring do-gooders. All they’re good for is praying and thinking.

The Gatherer in the front—Cora couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman—gave a slow, deep nod. “I am called Brother Magga,” it said in a drawling voice. “As established in rule 18, section 10, of the Intelligence Council accords, I will serve as Chief Assessor of the Gatherer delegation.” It swept a hand out toward its eight other robed colleagues. “These are my aides, who shall monitor and observe the proceedings to ensure fairness as established in rule 14—”

“Yeah, monk,” said Ironmage, rolling his eyes. “We all know the rules.”

The Mosca delegation sauntered over to clasp hands in greeting with Ironmage and Bonebreak, all of them wearing the same formal crimson masks and shielding that by now felt familiar to Cora. It was crazy that she was starting to think of the Mosca as friends.

“I am Redrage,” the tallest woman said. “The Mosca Chief Assessor. And my aides.” She waved a hand toward about a half dozen other Mosca. “Your human and primate associates are Mosca property, so they may use our recess room.” She pointed to the third of the four rooms leading off the central vestibule. “From there, we will observe your progress and reconvene with you during the breaks between rounds.”

Cora nodded.

That left only the Axion delegation.

They were standing at the far end of the vestibule, in the shadows behind the dais. She had only seen Axion from a distance, on Fuel Station Theta. She couldn’t help feeling apprehensive; she hadn’t forgotten that they consumed human body parts as part of their bizarre religious beliefs.

Slowly, they stepped into the light. Cora expected the same creatures she’d seen on Theta: short, gaunt, with white streaks in their hair.

But they were . . . human.

She started. They couldn’t actually be human. But they looked human. All of them were of human height, human sizes, with human features, so perfectly human looking that they might have walked out of Armstrong, except for a white streak in their hair.

“What’s going on?” Cora hissed to Bonebreak. “They look human!”

“I told you on Theta,” he said, “they are a mercurial species. They can take on any appearance they wish.”

Cora stared at him. “I think you left that last part out.”

He shrugged as though it were a technicality.

One of the Axion men stepped forward, smiling in a charming way. “A pleasure to meet you, Cora Mason.” He reached out a cold hand to clutch Cora’s. “We are wishing you the best. We’ve witnessed human runners before, but never one so young.”

She felt Willa tense by her side and remembered that the Axion had been the ones who had conducted brutal experiments on her.

Cora pulled her hand back.

The Axion man didn’t seem to notice the slight. “I am called Crusader, the Axion Chief Assessor, and these are my aides.”

An Axion woman stepped forward, smiling. Her light brown hair, with its single streak of white, was pulled back in a lose ponytail. She had a kind face and even a slight gap in her teeth. The very picture of warmth, and it shook something within Cora. Hair so like her mother’s, but a smile that was more sincere than her mother’s ever had been.

“We have taken on a basic human appearance because it is something you are familiar with,” she said. “We want you to feel comfortable. We’ve left these streaks in our hair, which are true to our natural physical states, so that you can tell us apart from your own kind.”

Cora hugged her arms tighter, wary of trusting them. Their kindness had a ring of artificiality to it.

As though sensing her suspicion, the Axion woman’s smile slid to Willa. “How nice to see you again, Willa.” Willa shrank back, whining softly deep in her throat. “We’ve been looking for you ever since you disappeared after failing the Gauntlet. Awful business, that. We feared you were dead.”

Willa backed up behind Cora, hands pressed to her head as though memories were tearing at her. Cora reached down and scooped her up into her arms. Willa was heavy for a chimp, but she wrapped her arms around Cora’s neck, holding tight.

Thunder struck overhead, shaking the central vestibule.

“I don’t trust them either,” Cora whispered to Willa. “Not the Kindred or the Axion. They’re planning something. I just know it.”

Willa hugged her tighter.

Thunder struck again outside, harder this time. All eyes rose to the ceiling.

Fian turned to Redrage. “We should begin.”

“Assessors,” Redrage said, “take your places. Aides, retire to the recess rooms.”

The four delegations began to separate. Redrage, Brother Magga, and Crusader moved toward their seats on the dais, as their aide parties sorted themselves in the various rooms designated for each species. Fian was slow to take his seat, hovering near the base of the dais, whispering something to Serassi.

Cora eyed the two Kindred closely. They were so smug. All those smiles. All that talk about fairness. They were toying with her.

She needed Mali and Leon. Most of all, she needed Cassian.

>

She drew in a breath, worried about what Fian had meant by an irregularity on station 10-91. She reached out her mind, fumbling desperately for some sense of Cassian. Had Mali and Leon found him? Were they all okay? She hadn’t realized how used to Cassian’s presence she’d grown. How he had always been with her in spirit, as comforting as the charm necklace she used to wear to remind her of her family.

She touched her neck. Gone now. And she felt just as bare without him.

“Are you ready?” Bonebreak asked quietly.

Cora gently set Willa on the ground and then smoothed a hand over her simple black clothing.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.

“Gauntleteer,” Redrage announced from the judge’s chair, “approach the portal door. It is time to begin.”

Cora drew in a deep breath.

Ready or not, her time had come.