he had justified the Consort’s actions to himself.
I didn’t doubt he would destroy anyone who threatened his certainty. He’d guard that even more fiercely than the Key World itself.
“Shaw says you’re doing well in class. You haven’t reported more bouts of frequency poisoning.”
“No, sir. I’ve been careful.”
He paused outside Monty’s cell, handing over my earpiece. “Today is your grandfather’s last chance. Feel free to make that fact clear to him. If he doesn’t provide us with actionable intelligence, I’ll finish his interrogation personally.”
I swallowed hard and kept my voice steady.
“What can I offer him?”
“Excuse me?” he replied, startled into a direct question.
“I grew up with Monty. I know how to make him behave, and it’s not threats. Forcing him to do something doesn’t work nearly as well as offering him a treat. A bribe.”
“Very well.” He waved his hand. “Offer him whatever you think will be most effective.”
“He wants out,” I said.
“Then offer him his freedom. We won’t grant it, but he doesn’t need to know that.”
I suspected he already did.
“Now. I want all the information on this weapon that you can pry out of him. I want details—and anything he can tell you about a man named Gilman Bradley.”
I tucked my hands into my pockets to hide their trembling. “You think he knows where this guy is?”
“Gil went to his grave years ago. But he was your grandfather’s navigator, and by all accounts, the creator of the weapon we’re seeking. Information about him might help us locate it more quickly.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said.
Lattimer opened the door, and I edged past him, hands still in my pockets, toying with an origami star to settle my nerves.
Monty sat, chained to the table, chin on his chest. He looked even smaller than usual, and when he lifted his head, a yellowing bruise circled one eye.
“You came back.”
“I did.”
“I told you not to.”
“And yet here I am.”
He leaned back in the chair, careful and stiff. I hadn’t expected him to be so slow, hadn’t calculated for it. Not good. “What have you brought me?”
“An offer,” I said. “Tell me what I want, and I’ll get you what you want.”
“You know what I want.”
I looked straight at him, until he returned my gaze. “Lattimer wants information. He wants to know about Gil Bradley’s weapon. He says he can get you out of here if you cooperate.”
His eyes narrowed. “Does he, now? And I should trust him?”
Monty’s hands lay clasped on the table, cuffs around both wrists. I covered his hands with mine. “Trust me.”
As I spoke, I fished a set of paper-clip picks from my sleeve, my movements concealed by our joined hands and the bulk of my sweater. His eyes flew to mine.
“My freedom,” he said.
“In exchange for the information we need. We’re running out of time.” I nodded encouragingly and slipped him the picks. “So I need you to focus. Try to remember anything you can about the weapon, or the frequency it’s in.”
“It was so long ago,” he said piteously. He twisted his wrist to make the keyhole more accessible. “My memory . . . my ears. They’re not what they used to be.”
“Push him,” Lattimer ordered.
“You have to give them something,” I said, raising my voice as the lock clicked, loud as snapping bone. “What about the weapon Gil Bradley developed? Can you tell me about it?”
“It wasn’t ready,” Monty said. “Even before Gil was taken, they knew they needed time to . . . refine it. To figure out how it could best be used. So they waited and kept it hidden. So well hidden, the Consort doesn’t know what they’re looking for.”
“Wait’s over. We need specifics, not vague hints.” Something that will draw the Consort’s attention away from Simon. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”
Monty’s mouth worked soundlessly, his eyes growing distant and watery. His hands, I noticed, were perfectly steady.
“It’s a kind of circuit breaker,” he said finally. “Diverts all the energy in a branch away from the parent world and back into an Echo. The Key World relies on that energy, so it’s a bit like cutting off the food supply.”
My stomach dropped. Was this true? Amelia was convinced there was no weapon, and I’d never expected Monty to give the Consort real information—but even his lies had the ring of truth.
“They’re going to starve the Key World? Why?”
He shrugged. “Because the Consort’s greedy. They can’t leave the Echoes well enough alone, so we wanted to turn the tables. Once the Walkers