“What do I do?” I breathe, a hand inching up toward my head as if I can scrape out this Spore infection. “They didn’t even say anything. But somehow I started thinking they were good.”
Then I picture the kids playing with the basketball. The little beds tucked into catacomb tombs. I think of Stranna reuniting with her sister Olivia and the camaraderie between her and the other Spores.
I think of the golden field surrounded by nightbeasts and how I knew—really knew—Heidi would be safer with the Spores than in the coliseum.
Luc says I’m infected, he says they wormed their way into my mind. But the thoughts and convictions of my heart feel far clearer than any others. I don’t want to be deceived, but if this is deception . . . it feels so much more free and clean than Luc’s truth.
Maybe I’m willing to be deceived.
It’s the first time I feel a little bit of life in this place. I certainly can’t tell Luc that. That I’m okay with being infected. He needs to think I’m still on his side. After I get Galilei and my LifeSuPod, then I can be branded a traitor. For now, though, we need each other to accomplish what he desires. And we both know it.
I expel a long breath. “I can get past this, Luc. Just give me a chance. One more try. When I wake up, I’ll either still be trapped in that landfill or the Spores will have rescued my body, and I’ll be able to help your father.”
“Okay,” he says. “But you need to remain in the cell for now.”
I flare at this, but the reasoning makes sense. “Fair enough.”
“Don’t let me down, Cain. I know you’re trying to do the right thing, but remember that I have Spores in cells just like this and an Arena filled with nightbeasts. If you’re on my side, you won’t care who or what I send to the Arena. If you’re not on my side, well, consider their lives incentive to follow through with your promise to save my father.”
He sees through me. I see through him. But we’re both trapped, the only people in both Tenebra and the Real World who can help each other.
It’s not pretty, but desperation never is.
“I want to see Galilei.” I want proof of what I’m fighting for. For all I know, Luc could be lying about his dad.
“He’s not coherent.”
I look at him. “I thought people couldn’t be unconscious in the Nightmare.”
“He’s conscious but not lucid.”
Meaning Galilei won’t be able to tell me anything about the cure. “I have one more Sleep. If your old man doesn’t share his information now, I’ll never be able to bring the cure to the Real World.”
“We’ll find a way to wake up,” Luc says, and I think of the device he used to try to save my life. It stopped my heart instead. Is that where his hope is?
“I have one chance to get your dad’s LifeSuPod out of that high-rise. I don’t want to take the wrong body. I need to know what he looks like.” I mainly want to know he’s real.
Luc relents. “All right. Crixus will take you there. But keep your distance.” He eyes my hands as though I’m going to create a nightbeast. But what good would that do me? As though coming to the same conclusion, he waves his own hand, and the wheels of his chair spin of their own accord, leaving a trail of nightmist in their wake. He exits the prison area, and I’m not sure the wheels ever fully touch the ground.
I’m struck that even as sick as he is, he can do things like that.
Crixus waits by the cell but doesn’t open the gate. He keeps his distance.
“I’m not going to infect you,” I tell him. “I don’t even have one of those weird Spore swords. I’m not contaminated.” I actually don’t know, but I might as well keep up the farce with Luc’s lackey.
He snorts. “That much is clear. I know a Spore when I see one.” Is he contradicting Luc’s conclusion about me?
“Where are they?” I try to sound casual. But I wonder if Stranna still blames me for leading Luc’s tirones to their base. Is she alive? I try not to imagine her dead like Erik—stabbed without a moment’s thought.
Crixus opens the cell door. “Come on.” He gives no other response to my question. I don’t ask again, and as we ascend crudely carved stone stairs, he remains silent. It’s a filled silence like he wants to say something. He even opens his mouth a couple times, then closes it.
“Just spit it out,” I encourage, somewhat amused at his discomfort.
“You’re helping the Emperor’s father.”
Well, that depends on how successful Stranna’s plan was to get our bodies somewhere safe. But I won’t know until I wake up. “Yes.”
Crixus eyes me. “The high-rise his father’s in is quite large.”
“I can’t fix the power. I’m not an electrician, Crixus.”
“I wasn’t going to ask you to.”
“Then what—”
His pace slows. “Hex Galilei’s isn’t the only LifeSuPod in there.” There’s something about the way Crixus’s words come out that tells me he feels like he’s betraying Luc by offering them.
“Are you suggesting I go in to find an empty one for myself and leave Galilei to die?”
“Don’t be stupid. There’s no power. A dead LifeSuPod won’t do you any good.” He yanks open a thick door like you’d find inside an old castle, and suddenly we’re past two tirones and out on the street.
It’s bright here under Luc’s fire tower, especially compared to the dark of wherever I was. Dungeon? Prison? I’m sure there’s some Roman word for it. I blink once and my eyes are adjusted. That’s all it takes. Another reminder of how much I miss sunlight.
“I’m only saying there are more people in there than just Luc’s father.”
Is Crixus still talking? I raise an eyebrow. “Is there someone you’re concerned about, Crixus? In the high-rise?” A young lady perhaps?
He glowers at me. “Life, Cain. It’s as simple as that. You’re either for life or you’re against it. I happen to be for it, and you have a chance to save it.”
