Tomb of the Khan

  She stopped many times to rest, letting the darkness receive her, only to pull herself back before she became utterly lost in it, and resume her journey.

  After what felt not like hours, but many nights, she caught a glimpse of light above, and she strained toward it, the final distance the most arduous, until she emerged from the cave into the harsh, predawn world.

  No one saw her as she crawled to the Fishing Terrace, and then over it, coming to a blissful rest before Kang’s hut. There she waited, tossed on the waves of pain, until she heard the door open behind her, heard the thump of a staff, and then saw Kang standing over her.

  “Am I late?” she whispered.

  “No,” he said. “You are here on—”

  Owen floated in the void of Zhi’s unconsciousness, awed by the strength and will she had just shown, the distance she had gone to honor her father’s memory. He admired her, and only wished he could be more like her.

  You doing okay? Griffin asked.

  His voice, from outside the simulation, was very different than Monroe’s had been. Griffin came across like a 911 dispatcher, all calm professionalism. Monroe had been more like Gandalf, a kindly voice of reason and wisdom, with the occasional, frustrating riddle of an answer, but Owen almost missed that.

  “I’m doing okay,” he said.

  That was intense.

  “Doesn’t get much worse.”

  Need a break?

  “No. I’ll keep going.”

  Good man.

  So Owen waited, until Zhi awoke in her bed to the smell of fish. She opened her eyes and found Kang seated nearby, sitting upright against the wall, dozing. She looked up at the ceiling, and when she tried to move, her knee reminded her of everything she’d done. But when she lifted her head and looked down at her leg, she noted only the bandages with a small red bloom, the arrow gone.

  Her head slumped back onto her pillow, and the sound awoke Kang.

  He snorted and rubbed his eyes. “Ah, welcome back.”

  “How long?” she asked, and the words burned her throat.

  “Nearly three days,” he said. “I kept you sedated. You probably have no memory of any of it.”

  She searched backward, and found the scroll of her mind blank after the fight outside the cave. “None.”

  Kang nodded. “Just as well.”

  “I killed him,” Zhi said. “Möngke Khan is dead.”

  “I wondered,” Kang said. “The Mongol army hasn’t left yet, though.”

  “It will.”

  The old man smiled. “When I asked you to show me you were ready, this was not exactly what I intended.”

  “I know,” Zhi said. “But now you know I am my father’s daughter.”

  “You are, indeed. Headstrong, just as he was.”

  “I used his blade to kill the Khan.” She lifted her wrist, but, of course, the gauntlet wasn’t there. “Where did you put it?”

  Kang’s smile vanished, and his eyebrows bent in sadness. “I took it.”

  “Where?”

  “Away.”

  He seemed to be grieving over something, and Owen felt a powerful dread pressing down on his shoulders. “What do you mean?” Zhi asked.

  “You are not to have it.”

  “What?” Zhi raised her head and her voice. “Why?”

  “Because you will not be taking your father’s place in the Brotherhood. You will not be an Assassin, so the gauntlet does not belong with you.”

  “Why will I not be an Assassin?” The pain in her knee had begun to rise with the heat of her anger and confusion. “Because I went without permission? I killed the Khan! Have I not proven myself worthy? Are you so bitter and vindictive you would—”

  “No.” He held up his hand and shook his head. “No, it is none of those things.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It is your knee,” he said. “It will … never be what it was.”

  Zhi glanced down again at her injury. She had known it was bad. The crawl back to the fortress could not have been good for it, but surely it would heal. “It will be fine,” she said.

  Kang’s shoulders slumped. “No, Zhi, it will not. You will walk again, with time. But you will not run. You will not climb, jump, or kick.”

  Zhi shook her head, overcome by a new pain, one Owen felt with her. “I don’t believe you—”

  “I set the bones myself,” Kang said. “I have tended many, many injuries, and I know of what I speak.”

  Her life and honor were being taken from her. The spirit of her father was being taken from her. What would she be? Who would she be without it? Owen could not help but rage at the injustice of it, not only the injury, but this old man who seemed to have already cast her aside. He looked at Kang through Zhi’s eyes, and wondered, what of his leg? He walked with a staff.

  “But you are a crippled old man,” Zhi said, and Owen wondered whose thought he had just had, his or hers.

  “I am now,” he said. “But I served the Brotherhood for years before old age found me and dragged me out of the fight.”

  Zhi looked back up at the ceiling, the house now a prison.

  “For what you have done, for our people and for the Brotherhood, I honor you.” Kang heaved himself to his feet, his staff thumping the floor to find his balance. “The Brotherhood shall see to your needs for as long as you live.”

  “Because I am now worthless,” Zhi said.

  “No,” Kang said. “But you are no longer useful. To the Brotherhood. As a hero, you are invaluable, even though others may not ever know what you have done.”

  His words did nothing to comfort her. Nothing to fill the emptiness he had just carved out of her. But after he had said good-bye and left her alone, she lay there and realized that Kang hadn’t made that hollow in her. She had felt it in her soul since the night her father had died, like an open tomb inside her. She had filled that chamber with vengeance and purpose and hate. But the emptiness inevitably ate such things, and then demanded more.

  Owen knew exactly what she felt. He carried that emptiness around, too. He had managed to fill it and ignore it, but under the burden of Zhi’s grief, his defenses buckled, like a popping in his chest.

  “Griffin,” he said. “I need out.”

  Out?

  “Out.” He didn’t want to answer why, but Griffin didn’t ask.

  Give me a minute, here.

  Owen waited. Zhi began to sob.

  Okay, terminating simulation. Now.

  For once, the mental stress of leaving the simulation felt preferable to the pain of staying in it. Owen closed his eyes, and then opened them in the Memory Corridor, where he tried to remind himself of who he was. But it was hard to shake off Zhi’s grief, or the wound it had reopened inside him.

  Ready to come out?

  “Ready,” Owen said.

  Another reality-smashing earthquake, and then he was back in the Assassin’s lair, in the basement of the old firetrap of a house. The helmet lifted away, and Griffin disconnected him. Javier stood nearby, watching him.

  “You okay?” his friend asked.

  “I don’t know,” Owen said.

  “We were watching. That was brutal, man.”

  Griffin stepped away, and Owen sat up, feeling very heavy. “Yeah, it was.”

  “And no further sign of the Piece of Eden,” Griffin said. “So far.”

  “Do you think it’s worth going back in?” Owen asked, but he didn’t want to. “Seems like Zhi saw it in the tent, and that was it for her.”

  “I think you’re probably right,” Griffin said. “We need a new approach.”

  Owen needed a new approach, too. Something. Anything. All he could think about now was his dad, and he missed him so desperately he felt as though he could just implode right there, becoming a human black hole, endlessly collapsing on himself. Nothing anyone had told him, not his mom, or his grandparents, or that grief counselor they’d taken him to see, none of it could stop the process from taking place. Monroe ha
d failed to warn him about this Bleeding Effect.

  “You hungry?” Griffin asked.

  “No,” Owen said out of breath, or maybe he hadn’t taken one.

  “Come here.” Javier walked away, toward the conference table. “I want to show you something.”

  “What?” Owen asked, his feet rooted to the floor.

  “Just come look,” Javier said.

  So Owen forced himself across the basement to where Javier stood. He looked down at the stuff on the table. Files and papers and what looked like police evidence bags. But the name written on the bags, in Sharpie, caught Owen’s eye. It was his dad’s name. He looked back at the files, and found they all had his dad’s name on them, too.

  “What is this?” Owen asked.

  “It’s the evidence from your dad’s trial,” Javier said. “Thought you could look through it. See if they missed anything.”

  “How—?”

  “Javier went rogue,” Griffin said, and Owen could tell the Assassin wasn’t happy about it. “He broke into the police warehouse and stole it.”

  Owen turned to his friend. “You did?”

  Javier nodded. “But you don’t know how boring it was out here. I had to do something.”

  Owen couldn’t believe it. He looked back down at everything, and noticed a smaller evidence bag tucked behind one of the others. It had a cotton swab in it.

  “What …?” But then Owen realized exactly what it was. “This is DNA.”

  “Looks like it,” Griffin said. “A spit sample.”

  “But it’s from after the robbery,” Owen said.

  Javier grinned. “So it would have the memory of the robbery.”

  “I could go into a simulation,” Owen said.

  “Hold on.” Griffin looked back and forth between them. “Yes, with the right equipment, you could. But the Animus we have doesn’t do that. This one needs a live subject participating in a simulation of their own memories.”

  “But there is an Animus that could,” Owen said.

  Griffin gave him a nod that seemed reluctant. “Yes. That tech exists. It’s called Helix. Abstergo developed it after the Animus. But to use it we would need to upload your father’s decoded DNA to Abstergo’s database—”

  “The Assassins don’t have their own Helix?” Owen asked.

  Griffin pointed across the room. “I don’t think you realize just how rare that Animus over there really is. It’s not like the Brotherhood issues them with your hidden blade.”

  But Owen felt hope again, and that filled the emptiness inside him better than Zhi’s revenge and hate had filled hers. The emotional effects of the simulation faded. Owen now believed he had another chance to finally make things right. To prove to his grandparents, and the world, and even his own mom, that his dad was innocent. He just had to find the type of Animus that would let him do it.

  He turned to Javier. For the last few years, Owen had thought his friend just didn’t care anymore. But Javier had risked himself to find the exact thing Owen had been searching for. He held up the evidence bag, and with a little catch in his throat, he said, “Thanks.”

  Javier shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I was bored.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that you could have been caught,” Griffin said. “And it’s not the most pressing issue we face.”

  Owen tucked the evidence bag into his pocket. “Right. The Piece of Eden.”

  “Exactly. I need to report to Gavin that this simulation was a bust. Maybe Rothenberg has a new lead for us.”

  “Who is Rothenberg?” Owen asked. “Do you know?”

  Griffin walked over to a different computer terminal than the one he’d been using to run the Animus. He clicked on a few folders, and selected a file. The picture was of a generic avatar silhouette, not even a man or a woman. Griffin pointed at the screen.

  “That’s what we know.”

  “But you trust him?” Owen asked.

  “Or her?” Javier added.

  “Yes,” Griffin said. “Rothenberg’s intel has always been solid.”

  “But could this person be, like, a double agent or something?” Owen asked.

  “No,” Griffin said. “Rothenberg has never asked for anything in return. If that were to ever happen, Gavin would terminate the operation.”

  “So what if Rothenberg doesn’t have a new lead for us?”

  Griffin turned back to the computer terminal. “For now, we wait and see. Both of you stay quiet. I’m going to contact Gavin.”

  Owen and Javier slipped away, back to the evidence table. Owen flipped through some of the files and reports. This looked like everything, down to the bullet casings and the footage from the security cameras. This was the whole case against his dad, right here, and Owen couldn’t wait to start poking holes in it.

  “So was this hard to get?” he asked.

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Javier said. “I did get to drive a car. And now I know what a grenade does to a chain-link fence.”

  “So it was worth it, then.”

  “Totally.”

  “So really, you should be thanking me,” Owen said.

  “Probably.”

  Griffin’s lowered voice reached them, and over the Assassin’s shoulder, Owen saw the face of Gavin on the screen. He tried to listen in, but couldn’t hear what they were saying. Several minutes went by this way, before the screen went black. Griffin left the computer and walked over toward them.

  “Rothenberg has been silent,” he said. “No new intelligence.”

  “So where does that leave us?” Javier asked.

  Griffin leaned on the conference table with his fists. “We have to assume the Templars still have someone, one of your friends, with access to the right genetic memories. Yours didn’t pan out, Owen, but theirs might.”

  Owen had already realized that. The Assassins needed someone with the right DNA if they were going to beat Abstergo to the prong. But who had the right DNA?

  “The operation has changed,” Griffin said. “Our mission objective has shifted to target acquisition.”

  “Target, as in the Piece of Eden?” Owen asked.

  “No,” Griffin said. “Target, as in persons. I’m going to infiltrate the Abstergo facility where the Templars are keeping your friends, and I’m going to get them out.”

  David expected that, at any moment, Isaiah and that paramilitary lady, Cole, would come for him. If Owen and Javier could be terminated, then what about him?

  The fear had kept him up at night, and followed him around during the day. Sometimes, he was almost able to convince himself that he had misunderstood, grabbing on to the sound bite without the context. The conversation was probably about something else, and if David had the missing piece, it would all make sense. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about what would happen when Victoria pulled the security footage and saw where David had gone that night.

  But fortunately, she hadn’t done that yet. Apparently, Natalya was getting closer to the Piece of Eden in her simulation, and Sean was involved in some new brain research, both of which kept Victoria busy and bought David time.

  And today, his dad was coming to visit.

  David had to decide if he was going to stay here. He could ask his dad to take him home. He didn’t even have to tell what he had overheard. His dad probably wouldn’t believe him anyway, just like the others. David could just say he was done.

  But would Grace leave with him?

  That was the hard part. Grace would probably want to stay, and David didn’t know if he was willing to leave her behind.

  She was already eating breakfast when David entered the lounge, and he took a seat next to her. Sean was there, and Natalya, too.

  “So you’ve seen it?” Grace asked.

  Natalya ate a spoonful of berry yogurt and nodded.

  “You’re sure it’s the Piece of Eden?” Sean asked, with a bit of a frown, like he was envious.

  “Yeah,” Natalya said. “It
’s a dagger, just like the one in New York.”

  David didn’t think she seemed too happy about finding it, especially considering that’s the entire reason they were there in the first place.

  “So that’s two of the prongs,” Grace said.

  “Just one more to go,” Sean said.

  David looked back and forth between them. They were talking like it was a race, and they were neck and neck at the finish line. He knew right then there was no way Grace would leave with him. She never backed away from a competition.

  “We still don’t know where the first one is, remember?” Natalya said. “Maybe Monroe got it, maybe he didn’t. And I don’t actually know where this second one is going to end up.”

  “Where is it now?” Sean asked.

  “My ancestor and a bunch of bodyguards are escorting the Khan’s body back to Mongolia for his burial. It’s, like, thirteen hundred miles away. But I’ve seen the dagger with the Khan’s armor in a big wagon.”

  “Are they going to bury it with his body?” Sean asked.

  Natalya shrugged. “Probably.”

  “That’s how we’ll find it,” Grace said.

  “That’s how Isaiah will find it,” Natalya added.

  Grace turned to Sean. “What simulation are you doing now?”

  “I’m a Viking.” Sean leaned back in his wheelchair, sitting up straighter, like he felt taller just talking about it. “I just challenged this other guy to single combat for the right to lead the Jomsvikings.”

  “The what-Vikings?” David asked.

  “Jomsvikings,” Sean said. “The best of the best.”

  “Does Isaiah think there’s a Piece of Eden there?” Grace asked.

  “Not sure yet,” Sean said. “But the—”

  Victoria entered the room then, and smiled at them all. “Visiting day,” she said. “Grace, David, your father is here.”

  They both rose from the table at the same time and made their way toward the door. David still hadn’t figured out what he was going to say. They left their building and proceeded along the glass walkway. The day was overcast, and up here in the mountains, the clouds seemed closer and heavier.