to the ground. The Premier’s security is even tighter than I thought. I grit my teeth and twist in their grasp. All of my instincts are firing now. I feel like I’m no longer fighting against humans, but a pack of Ghosts in the forest. I whirl hard enough so that one guard loses his grip on my arm, then stab at him with my dagger. He lets out a choked shriek and falls.
The Ghosts around us stir into a frenzy at the scent of blood in the air.
But there are far too many soldiers here. I’m brought down hard to the ground again. My cheek strikes cold marble, and the force knocks me unconscious.
* * *
I don’t know how long I’m out. Seconds? Long enough that when I open my eyes again, my cheek is throbbing and their guards are dragging me across the floor. Ahead of me walks the Premier, his black boots clicking against the ground and his coat streaming behind him. Beside him is the woman with the white coat I’d seen from Red’s memories. The Chief Architect.
I struggle, but my coordination is slightly off after my bout of unconsciousness.
Talin.
Red comes through our link, his voice clear as a dove’s call. I hang on to his thought. Talin. Now that I hear him speak again in my mind, I can tell that he’s struggling to send his words to me, as if my name is all he can manage. And then, abruptly, we stop in front of a giant glass wall.
I’ve never seen an enclosed room like this. It’s a structure of glass so thick that I couldn’t hope to shatter the walls. Inside, the space is bare except for a series of chains hooked to the floor and ceiling. And there, in the center of it, crouches a figure I’ve come to recognize anywhere, his wings unfurled so that they stretch the full length of the room.
Red.
In the darkness beyond him are similar rooms to his, and when I look inside them, I see the shapes of two others. Strapped to flat tables. Chained to the floor. Wings of deadly steel grafted onto their backs. My breath leaves me.
They are already making more Skyhunters.
The soldiers drag Adena forward from the darkness too, stopping in front of the glass wall. She struggles between two soldiers before one of them hits her hard between her shoulders. She lets out a pained gasp and slumps slightly. Everything in me wants to protect her, but I see the guns in the soldiers’ hands and force myself to stop. They might shoot her dead. Had she managed to inject the serum into the control room’s containers? What if they’d caught her before she could?
The Premier casts her a dismissive look. Beside him, the Chief Architect has her hands folded behind her back and head turned down, as if none of this feels out of the ordinary.
I sway on my feet. My cheek throbs from where I’d hit the floor. We’ve missed our rendezvous time with Jeran, I think, trying to concentrate on how many minutes must have passed. He’ll know that something has gone wrong, that our mission has been compromised.
The Chief Architect says something to Red, and Red glares back at her with rage that simmers hot through our link.
“No answer?” the Premier speaks, the Maran language as eerily smooth on his tongue as Basean had been. He looks at me, then nods at the guards.
I’m shoved forward hard enough that I stumble. I barely manage to catch myself. Red stares at me. I know he can tell that my balance is off, because a fresh current of worry ripples through our bond. Then the guards force me to my knees, and my hair flops over my eyes, obscuring my view. Splatters of blood dot my shirt.
Behind the glass wall, Red utters a long, low snarl. It’s the sound he makes before his mind goes blank, before he transforms.
The Chief Architect notices his reaction and says something to the Premier. He, in turn, smiles at me. “Ah,” he tells me. “He’s afraid for you. You’re communicating right now.”
They know. My eyes go back to the woman, whose gaze darts nervously away.
“Perhaps we should test your link,” he says, then turns to the woman and speaks Karenese. Beside him, one of the soldiers draws a dagger in anticipation.
A surge of fury from Red sears through me, threatening to push him over the edge. I glance sharply at him. No, I