The Girl Who Dared to Descend

  I looked back at the AI in question, and saw that he was taking the news about as well as I could have expected. His jaw was clamped tight, his eyes hot and flashing. I caught his gaze and shook my head, warning him not to lose his cool, and turned back to Lacey, who had continued speaking during our quick exchange.

  “The Pines were like my family: one of the first families to keep their legacy nets after the IT department recalled them. Only they were determined to subvert Scipio. It’s a long story how my family was drawn into this whole mess, and an even longer story how we figured out that the Pines were behind the plots, but it culminates in my family killing theirs.”

  “You killed the Pines?” I asked, my eyes widening some. It was true the Pines had seemed to disappear after the first few Champions, but I had always assumed that was due to names changing because of marriages. Not because they had all been assassinated.

  “This was well over a century ago,” Lacey replied. “So no, not me personally. But yes, my family targeted them and killed them. Frederick Hamilton’s grandmother, it seems, was overlooked due to a divorce.”

  I picked up the pad and turned it on, frowning. If what Lacey was saying was true, then it meant that Frederick was potentially a legacy recruit, if not a full legacy himself.

  “Do you know if—”

  “No, I don’t know if he actually has a legacy net or not,” Lacey interrupted me with a sigh. “But we have to assume he does, just in case. The problem is, even if he is a legacy, we have no idea who, if anyone, is supporting him. It’s unlikely he would be working alone.”

  If I had to guess, it was the person Devon had been in league with. The one I’d heard those two Inquisition agents referencing when they were talking to the Champion in the Medica before we attacked them.

  “Nor do we have any idea what other candidates might be working with them,” Leo added, breaking his silence.

  Lacey nodded, her mouth turning downward, and sighed. “You may think I am powerful, Liana, but believe me when I tell you that whoever we are fighting is stronger. Ambrose is the first of us we’ve managed to get into the Knights in a very long time. That’s why I needed you and your friends to help him. Because I knew he was going to be alone in there. After what happened with you in the marketplace, I should’ve just pulled him, but…”

  She trailed off and looked at me, her eyes glittering with determination, and I followed her train of thought to the most natural conclusion. “But you need someone who is on your side to be the Champion.”

  Lacey nodded slowly. “Not only to help us, but to stop them from doing any more damage to Scipio.”

  I exhaled, the weight of what she was saying settling in on me. Frederick’s possible legacy status only confirmed something I had just started to suspect: we were on the cusp of a legacy war.

  And Lacey had just told me that we were the only support her side really had within the department. My heart sank, plummeting deeper into the cold, endless chasm that had opened up in the pit of my belly.

  We were in serious danger. And Lacey wasn’t going to let us stop.

  I clenched the pad tighter, anger beginning to well up at the injustice of it. Lacey knew there were going to be causalities in this fight, and she was going ahead with it anyway, risking the life of her cousin, and with it, the lives of me and my friends. Without even bothering to warn us.

  “You’re angry with me,” Lacey said, leaning forward. I stared at her, my jaw locked so tightly that it felt impossible to open my mouth to answer, so I nodded instead. She looked away. “I’m sorry.”

  “I thought you were going to provide us with some sort of support,” I seethed, unable to hold back the recriminations my mind was beginning to spin out. “But instead you let us walk into this without any backup, and expect us to be able to handle it on our own! What happens if we fail, Lacey? What happens if Ambrose is killed?”

  “That better not happen,” she said, her voice lethal, and I suddenly wanted to snatch my own hair out in frustration. Or hers. Possibly both.

  “You’re missing the point, Lacey! You cannot possibly expect me to keep Ambrose safe under these conditions! Maybe if we didn’t have the Tourney to worry about, sure, but were it not for the Tourney, he wouldn’t need protection in the first place!”

  Leo laid a hand on my shoulder, and I swiveled around to see him staring at me, brown eyes brimming with concern. I looked down, my hands aching from how tightly I had been clenching them around the pad, and struggled to catch my breath. I realized I had been shouting, and took a moment to get a grip.

  I couldn’t help it—my frustration at Lacey was getting the better of me. She had blackmailed us and set us up for failure, and I would be damned if I was going to sit by and allow her to get away with it. To hell with her Tourney and her suicide mission. Let her blast us as criminals—better to run than deal with this mess.

  “You know what? Tell Ambrose good luck,” I said, setting the pad back down on the table. “I’m taking my friends and leaving.”

  I turned to go, but Lacey suddenly stood up and slammed her hand against the table, startling me enough to make me spin around, my baton already in my hand in preparation for some sort of attack, only to find her standing as still as a statue at the head of the table, watching me.

  For a moment, neither of us moved, and the tension pulled tight as a rubber band for several long heartbeats while I waited for her to do or say anything threatening. I mentally prepared myself for what I would do if her henchmen entered.

  “I’m sorry,” Lacey said finally, lowering her chin slightly. “You’re right, of course. I did put you into a very dangerous situation, and you have every right to be angry. But please understand, I only did it because I felt I didn’t have any other choice available to me. You were Devon’s enemy, and had no knowledge of the legacy nets or this shadow war, which meant I could take a chance and trust you. I don’t like exploiting you, and I really wish I didn’t have to.”

  She paused, her mouth working, and then sighed. “You have every right to want to leave, but I am begging you. Please, help Ambrose win the Tourney. I know he isn’t the ideal candidate, but he’s the only one we’ve got, and if he doesn’t get in… If someone else does… then the battle for Scipio and the Tower will be over, and we will all be lost.”

  It was the desperation in her voice, more than anything else, that defused my anger, and I reconsidered her move from her position. She was genuinely afraid of what would happen if she didn’t find some way to shift the balance of power away from her enemies—and I was starting to believe her when she said that she wanted to save the Tower, not hurt it.

  I bit my lip, considering my options. I could still walk away, but without a new location for us to hide in, or the supplies we needed to survive, we wouldn’t last long. Not to mention, our absence from the Tourney would be noted, and people would start looking. Our chances of survival were better working with Lacey and trying to make it out of the Tourney alive. At the very least, it was a fighting chance, whereas running off and trying to escape without a place to go and while we were in the public eye was downright suicide.

  “I’ll help you,” I finally said. It was an easy decision to make, after my self-revelation with Leo in the hall earlier—putting Ambrose in the position of Champion had to be a far better option than anyone who was working for our enemies or someone who had no idea what the real stakes were. And, I was already planning on committing myself to Leo’s cause. What was one more cause on top of that?

  Lacey let out a breath she had been holding, clearly relieved. I didn’t let it last long. “But you and Ambrose will owe me, and that means leaving me and my friends to our own devices after all this is done.”

  “Of course,” she said hurriedly. “You will have earned it.”

  I stared at her a moment longer and then sighed, suddenly very tired. “Great. We’ll show ourselves out.”

  “Wait.”

  I stopped, mid-turn, and watched as Lacey cr
ossed over to me. She held out her hand, the pad I had put down earlier now back in it. I took it from her again, unzipping my pocket and tucking her pad in next to my own. “There’s a file there on the setup and design of the challenges,” she informed me. “It doesn’t have much more than that, but it will hopefully give you an advantage.”

  I looked down at the pad. I wasn’t uncomfortable with the idea of cheating, especially as it seemed our enemies had even more power than I had originally thought. “Thank you,” I said.

  “I wish I could do more,” she said apologetically. She stared at me a second, her eyes narrowed in contemplation. “It’s too bad you weren’t born into our family,” she announced after a long pause. “I love my cousin dearly, but I think you have the makings of a great Champion.”

  I stared at her dumbly, her compliment catching me off guard completely. “Oh. Um. Thanks,” I mumbled, uncertain how to respond.

  “Don’t mention it,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Now run along, both of you. You have a big day tomorrow.”

  I nodded, turned, and left, reeling from the emotional rollercoaster of the meeting with Lacey and the realization of the great danger we were in… and with Lacey’s compliment still burning in my ears.

  “Are you okay?” Leo asked quietly, and I glanced over at him.

  I struggled with a way to answer his question, and then shrugged. “Ask me tomorrow” was the only answer I could formulate. I belatedly remembered that I was supposed to ask Lacey about the legacy net, and the memories I couldn’t remember after the fact, but at that point, I wasn’t about to turn around to do so. It could wait.

  I hoped.

  24

  The next morning came too quickly, with too many questions left unanswered even after my long night trying to sleep but invariably being dragged back to wakefulness by nagging thoughts. Should I warn my parents to watch their backs? Why was I still agreeing to do this Tourney after everything I had learned from Lacey? How was I going to help Leo get Jasper from Sadie Monroe’s office? What was going to happen at the Tourney tomorrow?

  I had drifted off at four in the morning, and then, after what felt like mere seconds but had actually been three hours, I was jolted awake by my alarm, the sound of it waking me with a fright so intense that I sat up, immediately scanning the room for a source of danger. My heart had beat so hard that I could taste copper on my tongue, and it took me several frantic passes of the room before I was satisfied that I was alone.

  I rubbed my hands over my arms, trying to smooth away the goosebumps that had formed there, and shivered. The rude awakening after so little sleep left me feeling weak and shaky, and for a second, I seriously considered locking my door and crawling back under the covers to hide from all my problems.

  But I couldn’t. I wasn’t cowardly enough to, for one thing, but even if I were, I couldn’t—not with everyone counting on me to see us through this nightmare. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever challenges the day decided to bring me, and got up.

  I showered and got dressed quickly, needing something to distract me from the questions plaguing me. Luckily, it was my turn to make breakfast this morning, and with everyone but Zoe and Eric stopping by to look at the plans Lacey had given us, I would have my hands full making food for the next hour.

  I went into the kitchen and quickly began gathering ingredients, determined to stay busy. I let the feel of the knife slicing through the onions, peppers, and garlic I was preparing soothe me, and the popping hiss of them hitting the pan I had been heating helped to block out the questions.

  The room began to smell like my father’s cooking. I was making burritos, just like he had made in the morning when I was younger. The memories there weren’t particularly good, and I suddenly hated that I had chosen to cook this. Luckily, a simple reminder-turned-mantra helped me remember that it wasn’t the food’s fault, and it helped keep me focused.

  The work kept me busy, and it helped me pass the time with less anxiety. I made myself a plate when certain things were ready, and ate them as I cooked, wanting to get my breakfast finished before the meeting. Maddox emerged from the hall eventually, her hair damp and her nose up, sniffing the air.

  “That smells good,” she said.

  I smiled as I began transferring the spicy potatoes I had just been frying into a bowl. “Thanks,” I replied. “Hope everyone likes spicy.”

  “I’m sure they will. Are you okay?”

  I sat the bowl down and smiled ruefully. “You know, I’ve been getting that question a lot lately, and I think my answer is going to be ‘not really’ for the foreseeable future.”

  Maddox frowned and came around the counter, her eyes brimming with concern. “How can I help?” she asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head, returning my gaze to the food. I actually did want to talk about it, but if I started now, I’d probably break down. And I couldn’t afford to do that before the Tourney. “Thanks,” I said, pulling the tortillas out of the microwave. “But I’ll get by.”

  She looked doubtful, but didn’t press. Instead, she reached over and grabbed two of the bowls with the burrito fillings I had whipped up, and began carrying them into the living room. I balanced two more on one arm, and the plate of tortillas on the other, and followed suit, working with her to set the table.

  Quess and Tian arrived before we were finished. I opened the door to admit them, and smiled when I saw Tian fast asleep in Quess’s arms, her mouth open, snoring loudly. “She got home late,” he said with a frown as he stepped in. “She wouldn’t come home when I told her.”

  “Is she okay?” I asked, instantly concerned. “Why wouldn’t she come home?”

  “She said she was onto something,” he replied, his voice haggard. “I had to threaten to take away dessert privileges just to get her to finally come home, and she was mad at me when she arrived.”

  “Because it’s not fair,” Tian mumbled, smacking her mouth and shifting her head slightly.

  “I’m the adult,” Quess said firmly, but Tian blew a halfhearted raspberry, and then yawned loudly.

  I exhaled. “Tian, what you did wasn’t good,” I said, keeping my voice very even.

  Her eyes shot open, and a second later she was sitting upright. “Yes, it was,” she said, frowning. “You said we needed to find a new home, and that’s what I was doing. But there are some places you can only go at night, so I needed to be out there, looking! This is my job!”

  If Quess hadn’t been holding her, I could imagine that she would have been stamping one booted foot to emphasize her point.

  “I know it’s your job,” I said patiently. “But with the Tourney starting, we’re all going to be really busy for the next few days. We need you to take a little break from the house hunt.”

  “No!” she said, and began squirming around in Quess’s arms, so much so that the young man had to set her down. “I’m close to a new home, I can feel it! Let me go.”

  I closed my eyes against her vehement tone, trying for patience. I wasn’t mad that Tian was being stubborn—but I was tired, and that would make anyone feel a bit short tempered.

  “I’m really sorry, Tian, but I can’t,” I said firmly. She opened her mouth to object once again, but I held up my hand, stopping her. “Would Cali say exactly what I’m saying?” I asked her, giving her a pointed look.

  She scowled, crossing her arms across her chest. “Yes,” she admitted with the enthusiasm of a person about to have a tooth pulled. She sucked in several deep breaths, clearly trying to calm herself down. “Fine. I won’t go anywhere today. Now, may I please use your bedroom to get a few more hours of sleep?”

  I frowned at the rapid jump in the conversation, and after a moment of thinking about it, I nodded. “Of course. I’ll make you a burrito for when you wake up.”

  “With no tomatoes,” she ordered as she stomped past me, heading for my room on the left side of the hall.

  “She’s getting spoiled,” Quess sa
id softly, and I frowned. I didn’t agree. Tian was probably one of the most selfless girls I knew. If anything, she was worried that she wasn’t doing enough to contribute, or wasn’t working fast enough for everyone, and was angry that she was being prevented from completing her goals. It would pass, especially once she got more sleep.

  I started to tell Quess as much, but then another buzz on the door caught my attention, and I opened it up to let Leo and Ambrose in. “Good morning,” I said, ushering them inside. “You’re just in time. Breakfast is ready to eat.”

  “And smells amazing,” Leo said, an excited look coming to his eyes as he moved inside, making a beeline for the food. He stood over it, studying it.

  “He really is an odd one,” Ambrose said quietly from beside me, and I blinked and looked over at him, instantly alarmed that he had picked up on Leo’s little quirks. I knew he wouldn’t be able to guess what Leo actually was, but I didn’t like the idea of Ambrose noticing anything off about him.

  “Go ahead and get seated,” I said with a smile, gently changing the subject. “I’ve got Lacey’s plans ready for today’s challenge, and I already ate, so I can run through things while you guys eat.”

  Ambrose nodded, and together we moved into the living room. I quickly made a burrito for Tian, but set it aside instead of delivering it to her directly, eager to get started.

  “All right. So, I’m not sure what the goal for the first challenge is, but Lacey gave us a map of what the setup is going to be. We’re going to be navigating a maze.”

  A maze with a lot of tricky turns and dead-ends. I’d looked at it last night in order to prepare, and even I had been overwhelmed by the number of turns, switchbacks, and dead-ends. Luckily, we had Leo, whose photographic memory would help solve that problem, but looking at it still gave us a chance to prepare. I reached over and activated the pad I had placed on the table earlier, syncing it with the holographic generator Quess had delivered the other day, and showing the design on the screen—a series of intersecting lines inside an oval that had simply two labels: Wall and Path. There was nothing to indicate what would be used as a barrier; it could be anything from metal to water.