The Toll (Arc of a Scythe #3) - Neal Shusterman Page 0,55

steps into the bathroom, splashing his face with water. He quickly reins his mind in. His thoughts, and his world, are so much easier to control than the unpredictable winds of dreams. He thinks he might step out onto the rooftop garden and take in the lights of Fulcrum City. But before he can, he hears something. Someone. There’s someone in the room with him.

The Tonist zealot, now in the High Blade’s quarters, begins intoning a deep and resonant G-sharp. It will bring the spirit of the Tone to his side. It will pierce the High Blade like radiation. It will drive fear into the High Blade’s heart and force him to his knees.

Goddard’s knees feel week. He knows that sound. He flicks on a light, and there before him is a Tonist standing in the corner, gaunt, wild-eyed, and mouth agape. How the hell did a Tonist get in here? Goddard hurries to his bed and reaches for the blade he always keeps by his side, but it’s not there. It’s in the Tonist’s hand, held tightly in his grip. But if the man was there to end him, then why hasn’t he taken action?

“You think you’re untouchable, High Blade Goddard, but you’re not. The Tone sees you, the Thunder knows you, and the Toll shall judge you, casting you into the pit of everlasting discord.”

“What is it you want?” demands Goddard.

“What is it I want? To show you that no one can hide from the Holy Triad. To stream to the world how truly vulnerable you are—and when the Toll comes for you, he will show no mercy, for he is the one true—”

The Tonist’s words are cut short by a sudden pain in his back. He sees the tip of a knife protruding from his chest. He knew this was a possibility. He knew he might not make it back to the garden, where he’d leap from the building, splatting to escape. But if his fate was to become one with the Tone now, then he would accept this final measure.

Scythe Rand pulls the knife out, and the Tonist falls dead to the floor. She had always known this was a possibility. That an enemy of Goddard’s might break in. She never thought it would be a Tonist. Well, she is more than happy to make him “one with the Tone.” Whatever that means.

Now that the threat is neutralized, Goddard finds his shock rapidly transmuting into anger.

“How did a Tonist get in here?”

“By parachute,” Rand says. “He landed in the garden, then cut a hole in the glass.”

“And where were the BladeGuards? What is their job if not to protect me from things like this?”

Now Goddard paces, whipping his fury into a caustic meringue.

Now that the threat is neutralized, Scythe Rand knows that this is her chance. She must transmute her resolve into action. How did a Tonist get in here? She allowed him to. While the guards were elsewhere, she caught sight of his approach from her quarters and watched as he landed clumsily in the rooftop garden—so clumsily that the camera he had brought to stream this event fell to the grass.

No one would see his transmission. No one would know.

And so it gave Ayn the opportunity to observe. To let it play out, and allow Goddard a few moments of fear and shock, before she gleaned the intruder. Because as Constantine suggested, she could mold Goddard’s actions—but only when he was reeling, and his fury was whipped into stiff but malleable peaks.

“Are there others?” demands Goddard.

“No, he was alone,” Rand tells him—and the guards, two minutes too late, fall over one another to do a search of the entire residence, as if it will make up for their failure to protect him. It used to be that violence against scythes was unthinkable. He blames the old guard, and the weakness their mewling dissent has shown the world. So what to do about this? If a random Tonist can get to him, then anyone can. Goddard knows he has to take swift and sweeping action. He needs to shake the world.

Are there others? Of course there are others. Not here, not today, but Rand knows that Goddard’s actions are creating as many enemies as allies. It used to be that violence against scythes was unthinkable. But thanks to Goddard, it’s not that way anymore. Perhaps this wayward Tonist was just here to make a point—but there will be others with more deadly agendas. As much