She was standing there, a few metres away, her pistol aimed at his chest. Frey felt a moment of dreadful surprise, and then she shot him.
The gunshots were deafening. He didn’t even have time to skid to a halt before she pulled the trigger twice in succession, shooting at virtually point-blank range. Frey’s momentum was violently checked. He tottered on his heels and fell onto his back.
Trinica had dismissed him before he’d even hit the floor. She holstered her pistol and ran on, not interested in wasting a moment of her escape on sentiment.
Frey heard her footsteps disappear up the corridor. His chest heaved. His brain and body gradually slipped out of a state of shock.
He got up on his elbows. He felt around his chest in disbelief.
There were no holes in his shirt. He was unharmed. He got to his feet, looking around himself as if there might be an answer lying there.
I’m not dead, he thought, dumbly. Why aren’t I dead?
There was only one thing he could think of. He looked down at his hand, which was still holding the cutlass.
The daemon-thralled blade had deflected the bullets.
‘I didn’t know it could do that,’ he murmured, staring at it in wonder. It wasn’t even marked. ‘Crake, you’re a bloody genius.’
But there was no time for amazement. Matters were too urgent to wallow in good fortune.
The corridor ended in a T-junction, which brought him to a halt. He looked both ways. A door was ajar some way down the left corridor. He crept towards it. As he neared, he heard the sounds of muted rummaging inside, and the click of case-locks. Suddenly, the door flew open and Trinica burst out. His arm snapped up, the edge of the cutlass resting against her throat, and she froze. In one hand was her pistol; in the other was the case he’d seen her carrying when they were shuttled down from the Delirium Trigger. The case holding the charts and the compass that would lead him back to Retribution Falls.
‘Ah-ah, Trinica,’ he said chidingly. ‘You’re not going anywhere. Drop the gun.’
She stared at him, her eyes black, and said nothing.
‘Don’t think I’ll do it?’ he asked. ‘Try me. After what you just pulled, I’d be glad to be rid of you.’
Trinica dropped her gun. Frey kicked it away from her. ‘Give me the case,’ he told her. She did so. She didn’t seem surprised that he was still alive, and she didn’t ask how.
‘They’ll kill me, Darian,’ she said. ‘When Grephen’s plan comes to light, they’ll hang me as a conspirator.’
‘Probably,’ said Frey. He was still angry enough not to care. The fact that she’d pulled the trigger on him had wounded him deeply. Somehow, he’d always thought she wouldn’t be able to do it. Watching him die was one thing, but this had a whole new level of cold-bloodedness to it. He felt unreasonably betrayed. Their past should have counted for something at that moment. You shouldn’t be capable of killing someone you once loved.
Trinica stared at him for a long moment. ‘What now? Are you going to take me back to them?’
Frey didn’t answer that. He hadn’t thought beyond reclaiming the charts. He hadn’t considered what he might do with Trinica.
‘You know there’s no guarantee they’ll pardon you, don’t you?’ she said. ‘You know they could just force you to co-operate. They might go back on their word after you’ve done what you said you would. Because whatever way you cut it, you fired
