The Trap (The Hunt 3)

“You sent him out? You sent him to assassinate the girl?”

The Ruler’s silence is answer enough.

“How could you send him? He doesn’t know the first thing about the metropolis. He doesn’t know how to meld into the scenery, how to remain inconspicuous in a crowd. He’ll be devoured within seconds of stepping into the metropolis, if not before. ”

The Ruler flinches at my outburst. “I’m sorry. I am. You were our obvious first choice, but my chief advisor was dead set against it. Said that you, being so muscular and cut, would possess a taste second to none. And that I shouldn’t deny what would be the most exquisite of heper meals for my birthday tomorrow. My chief advisor strongly urged me to send in Epap instead. The boy seemed capable, no?”

The chief advisor. Trying to protect me, his precious Origin, and so he sent out Epap instead. I stare into the crowd trying to locate him, but he’s merged into the dark mass of bodies.

“It looks like he’s no longer viable, so we’re left with no choice but to send you,” the Ruler says. “A more logical choice, really, given your experience living there. You know the metropolis; you’ve acquired all the necessary skills. My chief advisor, bless his heart, is still against it. Can you believe he even volunteered himself to go? He said he would don all the SunCloaks necessary to traverse the sun-scorched land. I scoffed at that idea. It would be suicide to venture out there. He wouldn’t last ten minutes, even with the SunCloaks. ”

“When did you send out Epap?”

“It must have been about three hours ago. We gave him a bag of weapons—really cool stuff, daggers, snipers, a Moonlight Visor to hide his face, shotguns, stuff the denizens know nothing about—along with a map of the metropolis, the location of the hospital and Convention Center circled. Then we put him on a horse. And away he went. ”

“But you think him dead already?”

His eyes slid off me uneasily.

“We do. I’m sorry. ”

“How do you know this. ”

“We gave him one other thing. A TextTrans. It’s cutting-edge stuff, really. With it, he was to type messages to us—which we received instantly—and we, him. We were checking in on him every hour or so, and everything was fine. For the first two hours, anyway. ” He pauses. “But about an hour ago, we lost all communication with him. The last TT message indicated that he’d just entered the metropolis limits. Then nothing. ”

“I’ll go,” I say.

“You will?”

“Contingent on your meeting my demand. ”

“Go on. ”

“I don’t go in alone. If you want this done right, if you want the girl assassinated, I’ll need help. I need two others to come with me. ”

“Two others? Who?”

“Sissy and David. ”

He pauses. “No. ”

“Then forget it. ”

“Understand my reasoning. You’ll all three be spotted in the metropolis almost immediately. Your pictures are everywhere. It’s bad enough sending you in alone, but at least I know you have the skills to go unnoticed. But the three of you together will simply be a screaming signboard. ”

“We’ll wear MoonLight Visors. They’ll sufficiently cover our faces. ”

He pauses. “We’ve packed only two Visors. So you’re short. In any case, nobody wears those Visors indoors. What happens when you need to go inside a building?”

“Leave that problem to us. But it’s us—all three of us—or none at all. The girl, with her combat skills, gives us a lot more kill options. And she won’t do it unless the boy goes. ”

“Like I said, no. ”

“Then we can just wait for the millions to storm these walls. In about ten, twelve hours, right?”

The Ruler’s hand on the control tenses. “I’m trying to be accommodating,” he says after a while, “but I’m not a fool. If I let you three go, you’ll simply take off and flee. I’d have lost the only leverage that ensures your commitment and cooperation. Because I know what they mean to you. My chief advisor does his homework, see. ”

“You already know it was a mistake to send in one alone,” I say, trying to sound convincing. “Don’t make the same mistake twice. Because you and I know both know: this is your last shot. You don’t get a third chance at this. ”

He stares at me with dispassionate, unreadable eyes. He puckers his lips. “Very well,” he says after almost a minute. “We’ll compromise, meet you halfway. We’ll give you one. The other we will keep as insurance. ”

“As a hostage, you mean. ”

“Let’s call it incentive—for you to return, that is—and leave it at that. We’ll let you have the boy. ”