against the dark shirt, except that it shines with a glint of moonlight. It’s the only adornment on his simple clothing, and matches the sheen of my bracelet.
I back away, fearful of what he might do. But the fact is, at the last possible moment, he saved me.
I cough again, trying to find my voice. The man stands in silence and stares. Then, with the only whisper I have left, I clear my throat and speak. It’s probably a shot in the dark, but I have to try.
“D-dad?”
It comes out smaller than I mean it to. The wind snaps most of the sound away before it even reaches the guy. I try again.
“Dad?”
He blinks. Then, without a word, he turns and runs.
“Wait!” I follow the best I can, but he’s too fast. “Don’t run away!”
His legs pump like pistons along the barren terrain until he’s running with more velocity than a shuttle. I keel over in exhaustion and watch him. His silhouette shrinks as he escapes into the distance. Then, just as he’s about to disappear altogether, he crouches and jumps.
And flies.
I watch the man shoot into the sky like the blast of a cannon. A blink of an eye and he’s gone.
I collapse to my knees and stare at the stars, waiting for him to loop around and come back.
He doesn’t. Maybe he never will.
12
Cassius squirmed in the restraints. His left foot had itched for the last twenty minutes, right on the sole where he didn’t have a chance of scratching. Worse than that, he desperately wanted to reach behind and pull Madame’s device from his neck, but she was right. Even if he’d had control of his arms, he couldn’t feel a thing back there. No tingle or rawness from a scar. But he knew it was inside. That was enough.
Various Unified Party officials had been in throughout the day, spoon feeding him breakfast and lunch. The woman in the morning had been downright chatty, blabbering like he was her long lost grandson. The lunch guy- younger and less smiley-hadn’t said a word. Instead, he’d glared at Cassius through thick glasses as he ladled a stew into his lips.
He looked at the clock on the far wall. It had been over an hour since anyone had visited. The silence was becoming unbearable. His limbs stiffened. They’d started to cramp early in the morning. Now they were nearly numb. Numb would be better.
He longed to conjure the fire inside of him, to break free of the shackles and shake the stillness of the room. But, true to Madame’s word, his body remained unresponsive.
He tried not to think about mind control. Harnessing. She’d told him his mind would function fully, but impulses would steer him in directions he didn’t want to go. Madame’s impulses, his body. It was a dangerous combination.
It couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let it.
But Madame knew him too well. Without his power, he was as helpless as any other prisoner. The thick metal bands locked him in place. Strength didn’t matter. All the agility and combat skills in the world were useless to him now. There had to be another way.
The door cracked open. He balled his fingers into fists, expecting Madame. Instead, a brown haired kid- twelve or thirteen-crept into the room and shut the door carefully behind him. His messy hair stuck in a diagonal across his forehead, framing a youthful, dirt-specked face at odds with his intense, rattled eyes. Cassius had seen this kid before. Only once, but he remembered it clearly.
Last spring, a day before boarding Skyship Atlas in search of Fisher, Cassius had watched this boy leave Madame’s office. The thought of someone else having a direct line to her had bugged him then. It didn’t matter so much now, but seeing the kid evoked immediate anger. Bad memories.
As soon as the door was safely secured behind him, the boy’s shoulders relaxed. A ratty undershirt hung over his gaunt body. Cassius caught the glint of metal hanging from the back of his belt.
The kid took a step forward. A devilish smile spread over his face. “So you’re the legendary Cassius Stevenson? You don’t look like much.”
Cassius stared, unsure of what to say, or whether to say anything at all. The boy’s immaturity showed in the way he carried himself, bobbing around the room like he had too much energy for his body to contain. He could be a mirage-a vision of his half-conscious mind.
Cassius closed his eyes. When he opened them the boy was still there. He swallowed, and found his tired voice. “What are you, the court jester?”
“Nah.” The boy continued to approach. “My name’s Theo. Theo Rayne. I guess we’re kinda brothers, in a way.”
Cassius grunted. “Great. Another one.”
Theo’s smile straightened, though the corners of his lips still curled slightly. “She’s always talking about you. I get sick of it sometimes. I mean, look at you, chained to the wall like a human sacrifice. What’s so great about that?”
Cassius’s eyelids drooped slightly as he fought to stay lucid. “You’re one of Madame’s kids, aren’t you? I saw you coming out of her office last spring.”
Theo’s shoulder twitched. “My real mom was gunned down before I could speak. So yeah, Madame’s the only mother I got.”
He sighed. A part of him knew this kid, everything he had thought and felt while growing up in the Lodge- everything Madame had told him, every stupid line she’d used to manipulate his behavior. In a different situation, he might try to convince the boy to leave while he still had a chance, but he wasn’t feeling particularly charitable at the moment. There were more important things on his mind. Chiefly: How can I exploit this kid to my advantage?
“She’s using you,” Cassius mumbled.
Theo smiled. “Sure is. Woman’s got a use for everything, doesn’t she? Definitely got a use for you. She’s always got a use for the great Cassius Stevenson.”
He chuckled. He hadn’t felt so great when Madame had abandoned him in Washington to capture Fisher, or when she’d let him destroy a train full of innocent passengers without even trying to clean up the mess.
Theo moved closer until Cassius could feel the kid’s breath on his neck. He paused for a moment, staring up at him with wild, dangerous eyes before turning abruptly and strolling to the far side of the room. Cassius noticed the glint of metal beside his back pocket again. A knife. How antiquated.
“Even after you go and get her killed,” Theo mumbled, talking to himself. “Took awhile to get her walking again, you know? The brick crushed her left tibialis.” He turned. “Do you know what a tibialis is? I’ve memorized every muscle in the human body. It’s good to know where to aim your bullets.”
“Are you trying to impress me?”
“No,” Theo said. “No one can impress the great Cassius Stevenson.”
“Stop calling me that.”
Theo grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Even after you betray her, she’s still obsessed with you. I can’t figure it out.”
Cassius grit his teeth. Like this kid knew anything about what it meant to be the object of Madame’s obsession. “Is that why you strolled in here? You wanna find out why she’s got me tied up?”
“I know why she’s got you tied up, stupid.” Theo reached up and patted the side of Cassius’s head-the way a parent would, or an older brother. If he hadn’t been restrained, Cassius would’ve punched the kid just for that. “Harnessing.” Theo emphasized the word like it was some imaginary voodoo curse. “It’s gonna be funny watching you toddle around the Lodge like an obedient little android.”
“You’ve got quite the vocabulary.”
Theo grinned, that same twisted, unnatural smile he’d worn when he’d first entered the room. He lowered his hand to the side, fingers playing with an empty belt loop. “I don’t like you, Cassius Stevenson. I don’t like you coming in here after all you’ve done and playing around with Madame’s head.”
