Jacob said, interrupting us. “The others didn’t see what happened. Is the king still alive? How many elite did the rebels take out?”
My skin prickled and I bit my lip.
“Last I saw,” Luke said carefully, eyeing me. “Someone moved too early. There was an accident just before the bomb went off, a lantern spilled, caught shit on fire. They cleared the stage before the explosion.”
Jacob sat heavily, stroking his goatee.
“So the king’s still alive then.”
I squeezed my fists so tight my fingernails cut into my palms. If I hadn’t stopped it, we could have killed the king, the chosen, the prince… everything altogether.
Instead, my first instinct had been to stop it. To save the elite, the other chosen. I was exactly what the rebels feared, an elite sympathizer. I didn’t believe in their cause. What was I even doing here?
“For now,” I said finally, holding up the key. “But once we have the antidote, we can turn the king back into a human, maybe turn the other elite as well. And we can be strategic. We won’t need to resort to violence or terrorism. At least, it’s a start.”
It still didn’t explain everything I found in Damien’s study, or the notes about the purification engines. Even if we got rid of the elites, we’d still need someone to maintain the engines, or all the compounds would end up like Quandom. Killing all of the elites wasn’t an option.
“You’re still blinded by loyalty to your elite prince,” Steve said. “It’s to be expected. After all, you were groomed for the role your whole life. I guess we shouldn’t expect anything else from you.”
“And what’s your plan, make all the compounds move underground, live like this – instead of the citadel or the compounds? You think they’ll thank you for that, for bringing down their society?”
“Freedom is better than slavery.”
“Not for everyone,” I said. “And not without a choice.”
“Enough,” Jacob said, pounding the table with his fist. “This conversation is pointless until we open the chest, and see if the antidote even exists.”
We hovered around the wooden trunk. Years in the ground had given it a greenish hue. Jacob hesitated, and I noticed the others take a step back. Then he inserted the key carefully. I heard the tumblers rotate as the lock clicked open. Then there was a sudden pop and the lid opened a crack.
Jacob lifted the lid and let it fall behind the chest. I leaned forward over his shoulder, then froze in confusion.
“What is this?” I asked.
There were a few pages with scrawled notes and formulas, but what caught my eye was a family photograph. It reminded me of something I’d seen in Damien’s room.
Jacob sifted through the old news clippings, a handful of pages torn from a notebook, and paused when something rolled out from under the scraps of faded paper stuck to the bottom of the chest. He pinched it between his dark fingers, then held it up to the light: a small vial of clear liquid.
Otherwise, the chest was empty.
A few months ago I’d known exactly who I was, but I had no idea who I could become. I never truly imagined myself getting chosen and moving to the citadel of lights, like other girls, but I also didn’t picture myself growing old in Algrave, having kids, going to renewal once a week to share small town gossip. The fences around the compound were meant for our protection, but they’d always felt like a cage.
And now, I was practically buried underground. After revisiting the citadel, the differences were jarring. From marble streets and ostentatious wealth to this crumbling ruin of the Before. At least with the purified settlements, people could walk outdoors and lounge in comfort.
There were corners to explore, tunnels that led to cave-ins or deserted store fronts, with broken signs and empty display racks. But each time I reached a new dead end I’d have to turn around and face reality: that I now lived in the ruins of a crumbling human civilization; that I was one of the outlaws, the rebels, who used violence to cause anarchy against the elite masters. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I’d seen what King Richard was capable of, on more than one occasion. I knew he had to be stopped, somehow. But did that mean taking down all of the elites? I couldn’t stop thinking about Damien’s ice blue eyes, and the look of anguish when he’d seen me at the wedding, through the