from dinner, on the dining room table. And Serassi was standing right in front of the microwave that always malfunctioned. If Rolf could throw the napkin ring at just the right trajectory to hit the microwave button, the door would swing open. . . .
“Nok, duck!”
Before Serassi could turn, Nok ducked, as Rolf snatched up the napkin ring. He only had a second to aim, but this is what he had trained for. His mind quickly worked out the right angle and force to throw it, and his arm obeyed with precision.
It hit the button. The microwave dinged again and the door popped open, slamming into the back of Serassi’s head. Not hard enough to do damage, but enough to surprise her into letting go of Rolf.
Rolf grabbed the shackles and slammed them around Serassi’s wrists. They were a material that bound on contact; no keys, no locks. Rolf noticed a small metal tag on a cord around her neck and snatched it, in case it was a key that would unlock the warehouse doors. Serassi’s face was still a perfect mask of indifference, but Rolf could practically feel simmering anger coming off her.
“Run, Nok!” He slid the cord over his own head and grabbed Nok’s hand. They jumped out through the kitchen’s missing fourth wall, landing hard on the warehouse floor.
“We don’t know what Cora typed!” Nok said, her legs pumping. “How do we know the plan is still on?”
“We’ll find out soon enough.”
They reached the drecktube grate that Leon had shown them. Rolf slammed his fists into it, again and again. It wouldn’t take Serassi long to get out of her shackles. She would tell the Council. They’d hunt them down, round them up, find out exactly what they were planning. He fumbled with the metal tag on the cord, but it didn’t seem to be a key at all, but rather some sort of digital file.
Rolf kept pounding, yelling for Leon to open the door, searching desperately for another way in.
Nok let out a cry. The pink streak in her hair. The yellow ribbons of the apron. Beneath the costumes they were made to wear, he loved her. He couldn’t let it end like this.
“Nok. I’m sorry.”
She was crying. He felt his heart breaking. He wasn’t a hero—he was a weak little kødd.
Then, abruptly, the grate swung open. A black-eyed face looked out. Rolf’s heart shot to his throat. It was a Kindred, in the tunnels! But—wait. This particular Kindred was familiar.
“Leon?” Rolf said incredulously.
“Don’t let the eyes fool you,” Leon said. Behind him, Cora’s familiar blond head poked out of the tunnel.
Leon snorted. “Bloody hell, Nok, I knew you missed me, but tears?”
Rolf threw his arms around Leon, who mumbled something about getting a room, and hugged him hard.
38
Cora
“WE’VE GOT PROBLEMS,” CORA said, as soon as they were in the drecktube tunnels.
“I thought we just escaped our problems,” Rolf said, jerking his head back in the direction of Serassi’s dollhouse experiment.
“Bigger ones. The Council arrested Cassian. We’re on the run now. I can’t participate in the Gauntlet. Our only hope is to get off the station.”
“What about Lucky and Mali?” Nok asked.
Cora hesitated. Cassian had warned her not to go back for the others. But Cassian hadn’t known that Fian would turn on them. Even now, Fian could be leading more guards to the Hunt to arrest them. “I’m going back for them. The rest of you should go with Leon to the Mosca camp. We’ll meet there. With luck we can negotiate something with Bonebreak. If he can’t take us all the way back to our solar system, at least he could take us somewhere where we aren’t being hunted.”
Leon’s face was unreadable in the dark tunnel. “I’m going with you.”
She rested a hand on the rubber shielding over his shoulder. “You can’t. They won’t make it through the tunnels without you.”
She turned before she could change her mind. She crawled on her hands and knees, following Leon’s chalk markings of zebra stripes, fighting the claustrophobia creeping into her lungs, until she made it back to the Hunt.
She pressed her ear against the door, listening.
Someone was humming on the other side but paused to giggle.
Pika.
Cora knew that she could trust Jenny and Christopher, and Shoukry and Makayla. But Pika’s loyalties were a mystery.
Cora sighed and drew up her knees, leaning against the cold metal tunnel, and waited for the cover of night.
SHE WAS NEARLY FREEZING by the time Pika left, and the sounds of chatter