The Toll (Arc of a Scythe) - Neal Shusterman Page 0,119

they have?”

“They are without reason,” said Scythe Makeda. “Without reason, conscience, or decency.”

Their server, who was so particular about the placement of silverware, was felled by a knife in the back.

That’s when Baba turned on Tenkamenin. “You should have fortified!” he yelled. “Added another garrison of BladeGuard! Or even gleaned this pack of Tonists before they could launch an attack on us! This is all your fault!”

Tenkamenin balled his hands into fists and stormed toward Baba, but Jeri got between them. “You can salvage your egos later,” Jeri said. “But first we have to live if you’re going to have this fight.”

Anastasia looked around. They were under cover of darkness, so had not yet been spotted, but that wouldn’t last long as the fires grew.

And then, as if the commotion around them wasn’t enough, a new sort of droning filled the air – this one from actual drones. From the sky descended a swarm of ambudrones. They had been mobilized from the nearest revival center when people began to go deadish.

They zeroed in on the bodies lying in the grass and on the pavement – Tonists, BladeGuards, palace staff – they didn’t differentiate between the dead and the deadish. They scooped them up in their insectlike pincers, carrying them off for revival.

“There’s our ticket!” said Scythe Baba. “Who needs a helicopter?” And without waiting for the High Blade’s leave, Baba ran across the field toward the closest ambudrone, like a lamb to the slaughter.

“Ahmad! No!” called Tenkamenin, but Baba was already committed and wasn’t turning back.

The moment the Tonists saw a scythe’s robe, they shifted gears and raced after Baba, intercepting him. He pulled out blades from his robe, took Tonists down all around him, but it was no use. They overwhelmed him, threw him to the ground, and attacked him with everything they had – including his own weapons.

Scythe Makeda tried to go after him, but Anastasia stopped her. “There’s nothing we can do for him now.”

Makeda nodded but didn’t take her eyes off her fallen comrade. “He may be the luckiest of us,” she said. “If they’ve killed him, the drones will get him. They’ll carry him off to be revived.”

But the drones did not go after him. There were so many other bodies around the compound, they were all already committed – and to an ambudrone, one body was no different from another.

And that’s when Anastasia realized. “They’re killing the staff to tie up the drones … so that there won’t be any left to go after the scythes…”

And with no drone to carry Baba away, the Tonists grabbed his body and dragged him toward a flaming pyre that would reduce him to unrevivable ash. They hurled him upon it, and the flames surged.

“To the palace!” said Tenkamenin, and once more led the way, as if somehow being in motion made them any less trapped.

vii. Benedictus

They piled into the palace, where half a dozen BladeGuards closed the ponderous bronze doors behind them and took up defensive positions, should the Tonists break through. At last there was a blessed moment of peace. A blessed moment to strategize within the madness. It could mean the difference between living or dying as ignobly as poor Scythe Baba.

Although the palace had many windows, they all faced the central atrium, which meant that the High Blade’s pleasure dome was also a mighty fortress. The question was, how mighty?

“They must have gathered every Sibilant in SubSahara for this,” Scythe Makeda said.

“It will be all right,” Tenkamenin insisted. “The peace officers of Port Remembrance will arrive to fight alongside the BladeGuard, and the city’s firefighters will douse the flames. All will be well.”

“They should have been here by now!” said Makeda. “Why don’t we hear sirens?”

It was Anastasia – insightful as ever – who burst their bubble. “The first explosions,” she said. “The far-off ones…”

“What about them?” said Tenkamenin almost threateningly. Fighting for his tether of safety.

“Well … if I wanted to wage an illegal attack,” she said, “the first thing I would do would be to take out the peace officers and firefighters.”

And the truth of it left them all in silence. Until Tenkamenin turned to his valet, who was silently wringing his hands in terror.

“Where are my things?”

“I’m … I’m sorry, Your Excellency. I left the suitcase in the rose garden.”

Jeri glared at the High Blade. “We’re all about to be incinerated, and you’re worried about your things?”

But before the High Blade could respond, a flaming truck crashed through the massive bronze