lies ahead,” he whispers. He lifts my cold finger to his lips, kissing them. “Tell me why we shouldn’t be here, Kricket.” With those words, I’m ripped from my body, leaving it behind.
“Stop!” I scream, just as I did when I was in the future. Spilling back into my deflated body, my eyes fly open and I arch in pain. I paw at my chest, because my fingers don’t work like they should. I groan, my mouth opening in agony. A hand sweeps my fingers from my chest, covering my erratic heart as it beats out of control.
“I’ve got you, Kricket,” Kyon murmurs.
Wild-eyed, I pant and strain against his hand. He holds me in my seat as I thrash against it. I have the strongest urge to get up and run, but there’s nowhere to run. I need to leave. Slowly, the deep stabbing pain in my chest turns into phantom pain and recedes. My breathing begins to slow.
“How are they going to kill us?”’ Kyon asks me.
I wince. “How do you know they’re going to kill us?” I ask.
“I expect nothing else from the Brotherhood. It’s a test. If you can read it, you get to live . . . for now. Do they succeed?”
“Yeah—they definitely get us.”
“How?”
“It’s our welcoming committee—they’re not so . . . welcoming. Four assassins. Two snipers on the eaves of the buildings at one o’clock and fifteen o’clock and two soldiers at close range—the ones in Peney diplomatic uniforms who will be on either side of Em Sam. You remember Em Sam, right?”
“Em Sam—his title ‘Em’ means ‘preeminent’—he’s an ambassador.”
“He’s an ambassador from Wurthem,” I tell him. “We both met him at the palace when I was Manus’s ward. We had several dinners together.”
Kyon’s eyes narrow in contempt. “I remember him. He’s the ambassador from Wurthem who spent a lot of time trying to seduce you right under Manus’s nose.”
“He never tried to seduce me!” I reply in confusion.
“He did. You’re just naïve. If he had gotten you alone, he planned to smuggle you out of the palace to his home in Oxfortshire.” Kyon pulls out his harbinger from the holster on the thigh of his uniform. He checks the side arm’s power level. Absently, he asks, “Did you die?” My eyes move from the gun to his face. My brow wrinkles. He nods his head to the side. “In the future, did you die?”
“Yes,” I reply, “but not before you. You stepped in front of me.” I swallow hard, remembering how Kyon’s head exploded with blue sparks that pushed his teeth out the back of his head, spattering blood all over me.
“Did that surprise you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Given our history, I didn’t think you cared for anyone but yourself.”
“For someone who can see the future, you’re blind. At least your precognition is clear.”
He glances at me. I must look scared, because his eyes soften. Reaching over, he cups my cheek. “You did well.” I find his touch oddly comforting for a moment, until he adds, “We might survive tonight after all.”
The airship lands and he gets to his feet. Chandrum joins us from the front of the aircraft. “I need your harbinger,” Kyon says as if he’s asking to use Chandrum’s communicator.
Chandrum doesn’t hesitate at all before handing Kyon his sidearm. Kyon then goes to a compartment near us. Opening it, I see it’s loaded with ferocious-looking weapons. “Should she wait here?” Chandrum asks as he indicates me. From the rack, Kyon takes down a long-barreled, riflelike weapon that Strikers usually carry.
“Yes.” Kyon replies. To me he orders, “Stay here.”
“Seriously?” I ask him in exasperation. He doesn’t wait for me to voice my objection, but moves toward the front of the airship. I call to his back as he reaches the open doorway. “I’m the one who knows who they are!” I remind him.
“And you’ve already told me,” he replies. “So your job is done.” He puts the high-powered rifle to his shoulder. The barrel of the weapon breaks the plane of the door as Kyon looks through the rifle’s digital sight. He snaps off several quick shots, and then exits the aircraft.
I jump up from my seat and follow him as he disappears down the steps. Racing to the doorway, I’m in time to see Kyon make it off the bottom step where he drops his rifle. I shield my eyes from the sun and look to the two buildings. On the eaves of both, I see dead snipers slumped over rifle barrels.