Page 48 of Ashes of Gold
I dare another peek. He’s chest deep in the box, pulling out a metal contraption with both hands.
The Loyalist studies buttons on the device as if he’s trying to figure out how to turn it on. He taps something red, and metal pinchers snap at the machine’s sides.
“Maybe it’s a trap?” I whisper to Zora, the feeling returning to my fingers. “The Chancellor could be working with this band of whoever they are to set traps all over the City to catch me.”
“Like the fire arrows.”
“Yes.” It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Zora’s eyes meet mine and in hers is a question: What do we do?
“If we can get our hands on that trap or, better yet, him… maybe we could find out more about the Chancellor’s plans?” I raise my eyebrows in question. What does she think of this idea? Is it dumb?
But she nods, then falls behind me, pressing her bare shoulder to my back as if to say she’s ready. She moves with me in one motion. I signal for the others.
“Bri, stand by to disassemble the trap if he manages to activate it somehow.”
“Jhamal, Zora, and I will take him dead on. Hang out over here.” I point to a parallel alleyway. “If he gets away, he’ll assume it’s just the two of us and run this way thinking it’s clear.”
He nods, but the way he purses his lips lets me know he thinks this is a waste of time. Sure, we could keep going, but information is a powerful weapon and we could use more of those right now.
Hinges creak and metal clangs around the corner as the Loyalist struggles to work a metal latch on the contraption.
Images of my prison cell creaking open cut into me in a flash. I suck in a breath, the memory playing on repeat.I’m thrown inside the cell by rough hands. I reach for his weapon, my magic, something, but my arms are bricks beside me. The prison door slams closed and I grip the cold bars of the cell. My magic stills inside me. My knees are weak underneath me and I look for Jhamal. Two men in white coats drag him out of sight. What are they doing to him? I slide down the walls of my cage. What have I done?
I gasp and steady myself on the wall beside me. Jhamal never mentioned seeing guys in a lab coat. That they’d dragged him. That they’d hurt him. Why didn’t he mention that? I mean, I guess, why would he want to relive that, regurgitating to me? How does that help us?He’s been through so much already.
“Rue?” Zora blinks at me. “Are you okay? You went glassy eyed on me for a moment.”
“I’m fine,” I say, shoving away the memories trying to choke me. “Let’s hurry.”
I round the corner with Zora, hands held high, ready to block whatever curses he throws at us. He glances between us and the device.
He smashes a red button on the device then bolts. Zora and I take off after him, away from the device, which could be some kind of bomb for all I know. We chase him down the far end of the alley, spilling out into the street.ThisI didn’t expect. No fight, not even one spell? What kind of followers is the Chancellor recruiting? I glance back at Bri, who is hovering over the device with careful hands.
“No, get back!” I yell.
“It’s not explosive,” she shouts, smoothing her hands along its side like she’s looking for something.
We round on the Loyalist.
“Get away from me!” He glances in both directions, but we have him T-boned in an intersection. Jhamal emerges from the alleyway behind him. Cornered, his eyes widen.
“Bri,” I shout, but she’s already tinkering with the metal contraption.
“They’ll be here any minute; you better run,” the Loyalist says. It comes out as a threat, but his hands are shaking. I step closer and he steps back.
“Uh, Rue,” Bri yells. “Not a bomb, but still urgent.”
I glance at Bri, but the machine is no less activated than it was a moment ago. A light glows on its side and lasers shoot out its top.
“This thing has a homing device,” she says. “He’s not wrong. Wehave minutes to shut it down before it alerts their people that we’re here.”
We’d be outnumbered AF.Shit.The Loyalist is covered in sweat. “You better not touch me. O-or…”
“How long have you been working for the Chancellor?” I ask.
He slicks a hand over the brandedLon his head.
