Glass Sword Page 128

When the cage stops short, I scream.

There is stiff grass beneath my dangling arms, just kissing the tips of my fingers. How? I wonder, pulling away. It’s hard to find balance, and I fall. The cage rocks with my motion, like a swing hanging from a tree.

“Don’t move,” Cal growls, putting a hand to the back of my neck. The other clutches a steel bar, and it glows red in his fist.

I follow his gaze, looking across the forest clearing to the people standing in a wide circle around us. Their silver hair is hard to mistake. Magnetrons of House Samos. They stretch out their arms, moving in unison, and the cage lowers slowly. It drops the last inch, earning yelps from us all.

“Loose.”

The voice feels like a lightning bolt. I throw off Cal’s grip and vault to my feet, sprinting to the edge of the cage. Before I can hit the side, the bars drop, and my momentum carries me too far. I stumble, hitting the half-frozen grass, skidding on my knees. Someone kicks me in the face, sending me sprawling in the mud. I shoot a jagged spark in their direction, but my attacker is too fast. A tree splinters instead, toppling over with a splitting crack.

The strongarm’s knee hits my back, pinning me so forcefully he knocks the air from my lungs. Strange-feeling fingers, coated in plastic, maybe gloves, close around my throat. I claw at his grip, sparking, but it doesn’t seem to work. He lifts me without any effort at all, forcing me to scramble on my toes to keep from strangling myself. I try to scream, but it’s useless. Panic knifes through me and my eyes widen, searching for a way out of this. Instead, I see only my friends, still confined by the cage, pulling at the bars in vain.

The metal shrieks again, twisting and curling, each bar becoming its own prison. Through one bruised eye, I watch metallic snakes lock around Cal, Kilorn, and the others, binding their wrists, and ankles, and necks. Even Bree, big as a bear, has no defense against the coiling rods. Cameron fights as best she can, silencing one magnetron after another. But there are too many. When one falls, another takes their place. Only Cal can truly resist, burning through every bar that comes close. But he’s just fallen out of the sky. He’s disoriented at best, and bleeding from a cut above the eye. One bar cracks him across the back of the head, knocking him out cold. His eyelids flutter, and I will him to wake. Instead, the silver vines wrap around him, tightening with every passing second. The one at his throat is worst of all, digging in deep, enough to strangle.

“Stop!” I choke out, turning toward the voice. Now I fight with my own meager muscles, trying to break the strongarm’s grip the old-fashioned way. Nothing could be more fruitless. “Stop!”

“You are in no position to bargain, Mare.”

Maven is coy, keeping to the darkness, to his shadows. I watch his silhouette approach, noting the spiky crown on his head. When he steps into the starlight, I feel a brief twinge of satisfaction. His face does not match his confident drawl. There are bruise-like circles beneath his eyes, and a sheen of sweat coats his forehead. His mother’s death has taken its toll.

The hands around my throat loosen a little, allowing me to speak. But I still dangle, my toes slipping in cold grass and icy mud.

No bargain, no trade. “He’s your brother,” I say, not bothering to think. Maven doesn’t care about that at all.

“And?” He raises one dark eyebrow.

On the ground, Kilorn squirms against his restraints. They tighten in response, and he gasps, wheezing. Next to him, Cal’s eyelids flutter. He’s coming around—and then Maven will certainly kill him. I have no time, no time at all. I would give anything to keep these two alive, anything.

With one last explosion of rage, fear, and desperation, I let myself loose. I killed Elara Merandus. I should be able to kill her son and his soldiers. But the strongarm is ready for me, and squeezes. His gloves hold, protecting his skin from my lightning, doing exactly what they were made for. I gasp against his grip, trying to call to the sky above. But my vision spots, and a sluggish pulse sounds in my ears. He will choke me dead before the clouds can gather. And the others will die with me.

I will do anything to keep him alive. To keep him with me. To not be alone.

My lightning has never looked so weak or forlorn. The sparks fade slowly, like the beat of a dying heart. “I have something to trade,” I whisper hoarsely.

“Oh?” Maven takes another step. His presence makes my skin crawl. “Do tell.”

Again, my collar loosens. But the strongarm digs a thumb against the vein in my throat, an open threat.

“I’ll fight you to the last,” I say. “We all will, and we’ll die doing it. We might even take you with us, just like your mother.”

Maven’s eyelids flicker, the only indication of his pain. “You will be punished for that, mark my words.”

The thumb responds in kind, pressing further, probably leaving a spectacular bruise. But this is not the punishment Maven speaks of, not by a long shot. What he has in store for us will be much, much worse.

The bars around Cal’s wrists redden, glowing with heat. His slitted eyes reflect the starlight, watching me with bated breath. I wish I could tell him to lie still, to let me do what I have to do. To let me save him as he saved me so many times.

At his side, Kilorn stills. He knows me better than anyone, and understands my expression plainly. Slowly, his jaw tightens, and he shakes his head from side to side.

“Let them go, let them live,” I whisper. The strongarm’s hands feel like chains, and I picture them crawling over every inch, winding like iron serpents.