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Welcome to stories from among the stars. You're listening to the book eaters by sun yi dean. Narrated by katie ehrich.
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Chapter 24 the rest of the story two years ago, when I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened. And now here I am in the middle of one Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland Blood painted her mouth in bitterness. Devon gagged until she vomited up chunks of flesh. She couldn't feel anything except dumbfounded amazement, which seemed wrong to her. Surely you should feel something when you tore out throats. Surely. Kai was screaming. The noise punctured her numbness and she turned to see him dragging himself across the carpet, banging his head against the wall, driven by some base functionality. She crawled over and tried to keep him from hurting himself, wrapping her arms across his torso and smearing putrefaction on him. Her protection only tainted him. How typical. Her breath came shallow and she found it hard to think, but that was because Kai kept screaming. Children shouldn't scream like that. She was still there when Ramsey Knight arrived 20 minutes later to find her covered in vomit and gore, kneeling on a floor soiled by the blood and guts of two corpses while Kai thrashed and howled in her arms. Arterial spray slathered the room in ropey strings of blood, more of it pooling and congealed. Mattley had lost bladder control and lay placid in his piss stained trousers, still alive somehow. Jesus bloody goddamn fucking Christ on a unicycle. Ramsey glared down Atlee's inert form as other knights filtered into the room, some of them examining the scene and speaking in low voices. Idiot, Easterbrook. What bullshit is this? He gave Matley a hard kick in the ribs. No response. Bullshit Noun, Devon thought dully. Stupid or untrue Talk or writing nonsense. Strange that she would never have described wanton death as bullshit. I'll get the lad, one of the knights bent over them. Devon huddled into the wall. You can't have my son. Her arms wound tighter around the toddler, fingers seeking purchase in the slight mass of him. He's mine. He's mine and I'll keep him. She was snarling as she spoke, buckteeth bared even as the knight recoiled in disgust. It struck Devon that she could not quite remember why she wanted her son, other than she'd paid a terrible price to keep him and simply could not let that go to waste. You're something else, ramsey breathed, scrutinizing her from top to toe. Really, Dev, you are phenomenal in your way. The other knight was already lifting his crossbow. She's a lost cause. Ramsey touched him on the shoulder. Hold off a second, Eland. He looked down at her over the curve of that proud Roman emperor nose. I never did thank you, by the way. Getting me sent off to the night was the best thing that ever happened to me. She wretched up another gob of human flesh, scarcely listening. I think we can still use them for the intended purpose. Ramsey pulled out a sleek mobile phone. Don't separate them yet. And don't shoot her unless she attacks. I need to make a call to Kinsey, see if we can adapt the situation to our advantage. He stepped outside, phone in hand. The other knights exchanged glances but waited. Situation. Purpose. Meaningless words drifting lazily through Devon's subconscious. Nothing clicking together like a misaligned puzzle set. Mattley had told her there were no more knights, yet. Knights were here, talking like they'd had a use for her, a plan. There were no plans. Mice and men. Was she the mouse or the man? She tried to think, but Kai was screaming and overloaded her senses. The room stank overpoweringly Eviscera. She kept her son from rolling in anything too grotesque as he flailed in agony, her mind existing in a place that had long ago surpassed normal fear or worry. Kai was unwell then. She didn't understand. He'd fed. It was horrific, but he was a mind eater and it had saved her. And why was he so unwell? Ramsey came back in, tucking the mobile into a pocket. Commander Kinsey says we should proceed. Is there anywhere else I can sit down? I need to debrief her, and I'd prefer not to do it while holding my nose the entire time. Another knight said, you think this can be salvaged? She was useful before and is useful still, Ramsey said, take it up with the commander if you don't like it. Silence descended. No one else argued. Your agreement is appreciated, ramsey said. Moving on. This is a working farm, eh? With traffic to legals and other such labour. It was Eland who answered, yes, sir. Excellent. Ramsey jerked her thumb. Go to the building where the workers are housed and bring me back the youngest child you can find. We'll be in the adjoining room. He looked down at Devon. Get up. She looked up Kai, sobbing disconsolately against her chest. What's going on? If you want your son to survive, Ramsay said, then come with me. When she hesitated, he added, or we can shoot you both now. Your choice, little sister. She stood up, writhing child in arms. What's wrong with my son? His meal didn't agree with him. Matley always was a contrary bastard. Ramsey walked out, shoes leaving a trail of bloody prints on the hallway carpet. I am already dealing with it. We have time to speak first. There's nothing to talk about. She thought about running for it, since no other knights had followed them, but that was futile and stupid. They'll be on her in no time at all. That's where you're wrong. You are both more useful than you know. Ramsey led her a couple rooms down. Potentially, anyway, if you cooperate. He shot her a cold smile and stepped inside. Be Devon the Deferential yes. She limped in, still dazed by the quick change of events and compulsively checking on Kai every few seconds. Still no improvement. She looked around reluctantly. They were in someone's private office. Filing cabinet, bland carpets, a desk, some chairs. Sit. He gave her a push. Devon sat, conscious of the dried blood and encrusted vomit that stained her front. Kai arched his back, wailing and twisting out of her arms. Let him go, ramsey said. He'll be seeking dark corners, lower sensory input to ease the pain he's in. What's wrong with him? She said again and gently set the boy down. As Ramsey had predicted, Kai crawled into the farthest corner and curled into a crying ball. Eating a book eater is not like eating a human. It can be done, but the sheer quantity of information is a struggle. We are vast repositories, closer to walk in libraries than we are to humans. Your son, he gestured at Kai, is barely out of babyhood, and consuming Matley has overloaded him. I've seen something like this once before. What the hell does that mean? Exactly what it sounds like. Ramsey took out a large leather wallet from his inside jacket pocket, unfolding it to reveal a set of syringes. With your permission, I'll give him a short lasting sedative while we wait for my colleague to return. In the meantime, you and I should talk. He cocked his head. Can't say knights don't know how to manage dragons, eh? With my permission, she echoed hollowly. Like I have a choice. What can I say? I enjoy the ritual of politeness sometimes. Ramsey stooped over the toddler needle, easing carefully into a tiny arm. Devon could not look away. Part of her feared what was in that syringe, but if her brother wanted them dead, they already would be. Within moments, Kai settled down. He now drifted in and out of consciousness, no longer screaming or crying, but still twitching like a nervy rabbit huddled into his little tangle of limbs. Don't get up, ramsey said when she tried to rise. Sit down and stay in your seat. We talk first. Your son will come to no harm sleeping on the floor. Slowly, Devon sank into her plastic chair. Kai wheezed, eyelids fluttering. Good girl. Ramsey slid into the opposite seat and gave her that familiar lopsided grin. D' you know why I'm here? No. Devon tried to concentrate. Matley said you were disbanding. The nights are gone. No more space for Kai. There are some in the families who would love that. But we're not gone. Not quite yet. The grin widened. Dev, do you know how my order control the Mind Eaters? We have redemption, she said, then sat up, sharp with realization. Wait. If there's any redemption around, that won't help him right now, he said impatiently. It only takes away hunger, and he's already in overload. Forget your son for a second, please, or this will take all evening. She ground her teeth. Fine. Everyone knows you control your dragon's hunger with redemption, just like they would have controlled Kai. So what? Redemption is produced by one mana. The Raven scars, he said. I'm told the Japanese might have something similar, but they don't deal with outsiders much. No one else on this continent can make that drug, and the Ravenscars themselves have always kept the process secret. Ramsay leaned forward, palms pressed to the table. Which is a problem because two months ago the entire brood disappeared. Mattley already told me that. Devon forced herself to focus. I don't understand how manners don't disappear overnight. They do when people burn them down, he said. Some of the patriarch's adult children have, from what we can tell, stage some kind of rebellion and run off into the night. Raven's calm manor has been raised. His gaze was hard and steady. All six families. Well, five families now are without redemption, including my knights and our dragons. Devon sat silent, wrestling with the enormity of that, startled into interest. Despite the awfulness of the night so far, despite her own consuming problems. No wonder Matley had said the knights were disbanding. Their power and influence were bound up in the dragons they controlled. If Ramsay were being truthful, their order was finished. Especially with fertility technology on the horizon and the end of arranged marriages. And with them went Kai's future, she thought. She'd wanted to save her son from life as a dragon. Not if it meant his death, though. That doesn't tell me why I'm here, she said. What do you want with us? Before Ramsey could answer, Eland came in again, carrying a sleepy baby, only a few months old and feeble its features wan from malnutrition. Perfect timing. Ramsey clapped his colleague on the shoulder and took the infant. The mother put up a fight, but I got her off her in the end, said the other man. Want me to stick around? Aye. Wait outside if you will, and then you can return it. Ramsay laughed, as if sharing a secret joke. What's going on? She hated being so ignorant, always five steps behind him. As I keep saying, your son is overloaded, ramsey said, turning back toward her. With the baby in arms, his mental processes are suffering as he tries to process Matley's mind. Leave him untreated and he'll slip into a coma within a day. The only thing that can help him right now is to overwrite his difficult feed with an easier one. Even then, there are no guarantees. The baby began to cry. You're going to give that kid to my son? She said, dumbfounded. Absolutely not. Ramsey jostled the whining infant, trying to shush it with the clumsiness of someone who'd never been around children. You are going to give this child to your son. Devon stared, still haggard, gore drenched and shell shocked from the most violent night of her life. This was one of those moments, she thought, where love was very much not a good thing. It had become a flood, sweeping her to darker and darker places while she burned and fried under its many hideous demands. You seem disbelieving, but trust me, it works. Ramsay gave up shushing and simply put a hand over the infant's mouth, muting its cries against his palm. A blank little mind will flush his system clean and scrub out much of Matley's complex personality. It will save your son's sanity and his life. He paused. Or we can watch him die in agony. Up to you. Devon sat perfectly still, hands resting lightly on her knees as she gathered all her focus. The initial horror was fading, lost to an ongoing nightmare in which terror had become ordinary life. Ramsay thought he presented her a pivotal choice. But there was no such thing as big decisions in life, only the sum total of many tiny ones across the span of her hours, where she was constantly assessing Kai's value to her and how much she cared. If he cried, she chose to pick him up. If he was hurt, she chose to soothe. If he needed something, she chose his needs over hers. A thousand different times a day, in a thousand different kinds of ways, she had chosen Kai until the choosing of him had become like breathing mother at all costs. Devon stood up. Give me the baby. Ramsey passed her the squalling bundle of human eyes alight with avaricious interest, innocent in arms, she knelt by her son and with nudges and soft whispers urged him to feed. He was dazed, barely conscious, and clearly in so much pain. She finally managed to pry his mouth open and place his unfurled tongue against his victim's ear, and instinct took over, a moment of perverse beauty, one child holding another with Kai's mouth on the baby's ear. Almost a kiss, almost a cuddle. It was love and it was death, and Devon thought that for her those things had become inextricably yoked. Her children were fires who needed fueling. She would burn anything and everything to keep them going. There was no other course she could ever take, no other path she could ever walk. Not anymore. Devon sat with Kai as he fed, one of the only times she would ever do so. She watched his eyes widen at the sudden cessation of pain, replaced by that same milk drunk expression she'd seen after he'd first fed on Matley. And this time, when he let go of the unprotesting baby, he drifted into a true and quiet sleep. The infant lolled on the floor next to them. Incredibly, it was still alive, though only in a physical sense. She ignored its vacant stare, trying to shut out any memory of the tiny squashed face. Phenomenal, ramsey said. But you were always special. Even when we were kids. Devon spat at him, then drew her son into her lap and slumped against the wall. It's not chance that I'm here. Mattley's antics aside, I'd already arranged to come tonight because we both need the same thing. You need that raven's car cure for your son or he'll suffer all his days. I need that cure for my dragons or the Knights are finished. Are you recruiting me? I turned to being credulous. To what? Find these lost raven scars? Naturally, he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Matley has complicated things by behaving like an idiot. But my plans can accommodate that Hiccup. Make use of it even. Are you insane? I can't just rock up to these Ravens cars, wherever the hell they are, and ask nicely for their secret drugs. On the contrary, yes, you can. He stood up, stretching his legs, looking down at her. We'll discuss the details later. First, though, I want your agreement to come quietly and to listen, because there is a hell of a lot more that I need to explain. He caught a fistful of her hair, tilting her face up toward his. Its very simple, Dev. Will you work with me or not? She wet her lips. What happens if I turn you down? Then your story ends tonight, princess. And for all that she was the one covered in other people's blood, tongues still tainted by her double murder, she could not help but shrink from her brother. Sometimes decisions really were a straightforward life or death question. I Devon squeezed her son tight. What do you want me to do, exactly? Chapter 25 Camelot Incorporated 2 years ago Courage and Shuffle the Cards George MacDonald Fraser Slashman the night passed in a blur. Three knights peeled off Devon's ruined clothes and stuffed them into a trash bag. Someone gave her a man suit to wear, complete with boxes. The suit fit well, her height and build an advantage for once. She dressed in an embarrassed rush, only to find herself hustled back to the gore strewn room from before. Matley's safe had been broken open, presumably by one of the knights. The door hung from its hinges, rendered useless in its prime function. She gawked at the stacked bills inside. Fit what cash she can into this. Ramsey handed her a messenger bag. Should net you about 20 odd grand if you're efficient, understanding. Don't. You're making this look like I attacked him and robbed him and then fled with the money. I'm not making this look like anything of the kind. That is precisely what you will be doing. She gripped the bag with bloody hands. What did you do to Matley? He bled out internally, ramsey said flippantly, and she could not tell whether that was true or whether it implied the nights had finished him off. We moved the remains to his bedroom. Every action she took was writing another word of her own death sentence. The families would think it was her fault. She would take full blame for her husband's death. The full blame, too, for stealing his money and for killing his men. And it kind of was her fault, which made things even more complicated, just not to the extent that Ramsay was implying. But four knights were in the room and they were all armed. So Devon set down her son on the cleanest bit of carpet she could find and crammed bills into the messenger bag until it could barely zip shut. By the time she'd finished, her fingerprints were everywhere, mixed with blood and dirt and fuck knew what from men she'd killed. More rope to hang herself. Perfect, ramsey said with a winning smile and took the bag off her. Someone crammed a poorly fitting dragon painted helmet on her head, and now she grasped finally, why she had been given the suit. The knights were removing her from the scene of the crime without drawing attention. They walked through Easterbrook Manor. The household buzzed with activity men and the few women talking in corridors or arguing in corners. No one recognised Devon in her suit and helmet. Dragons had a kind of special invisibility in that way. What have you told them? The helmet muffled her voice. Ramsay glanced back. As I promised earlier, they think you murdered Matli and fled with Kai. Under normal circumstances, they might have enlisted the aid of knights to hunt you down, but apparently were disbanding. I've told them we can't help. The last was said with savage venom. Devon, inside the safety of her dragon apparel, hunched her shoulders and said nothing further as they wound through the house and out into the gentle darkness of the witching hour. The air smelled crisp and the breeze brought welcome coolness. We have a long drive ahead, ramsey said, settling on his bike. You'll ride with me. Your son will ride with someone else. He gestured for her to sit behind him, and reluctantly she did. Kai was being bundled up in a passenger seat, the next bike over, still unconscious. Where are we going? Devon clasped on the seatbelt. Oxford. He revved his bike into motion. Devon left Winterfield Manor in the dead of night, wearing a dragon suit bundled discreetly onto the back of Ramsey's motorcycle. The luggage she kept on it surrounded her tightly and she fell into exhausted sleep. Dawn was breaking when she woke some four hours later. The knights had skirted the city centre, keeping to side roads and winding through smaller villages before eventually rolling up to a lonely concrete building in the commercial district. Surrounded by concrete walls and a barbed wire fence. A large lettered sign bore the words Camelot incorporated. I can feel you laughing. Ramsey said something funny. Of course you'd live in Camelot, devon said, almost wheezing. I should have known. Not much of a castle, is it? Do you have a round table at least? Modern times don't accommodate such symbolism, he said, coasting to a stop in front of an enormous pair of electric gates. Much as we'd enjoy a drawbridge and moat, this is rather more secure than the Arthurian variety. A pair of young suited knights leaned out of a security booth, offering a greeting in Latin. She caught the word Camelot in there. How do you afford this? She said as the knights approached the motorbike. None of you take jobs? Most bookeaters worked in family run firms or other labour that required only minimal interaction with the rest of human society. Some had illicit businesses, like the Easterbrooks, using humans who did not ask too many questions. The knights, so far as she knew, did none of that. Up until two months ago, ramsey said, every family paid us a tithe to arrange and facilitate marriages. We also had a special arrangement with the Ravens cars, which is complicated and nothing you need to know about. He gave a series of signals to inspecting guards. During this period of transition, we're living off savings to pay the bills. You might say they paid you a tithe because you were supposed to have no agenda of your own, she said. This looks like you're just another manor. Just another family. Nonsense. He revved the bike and drove through the gates, raising his voice so she could hear him above the grumble of engines. A regular family is bound by all sorts of rules which we don't have to follow. The knights have much more freedom and power than any of the patriarchs. Stupid me, she muttered into his back. Here I was thinking you existed to serve. No wonder the patriarchs were eager to shed the knights. Ramsay and the other knights drove down a length of asphalt to an indoor garage, where they parked and dismounted. Kai was still fast asleep, bundled onto the back of someone's motorbike. Devon squashed her urge to dash over and check on him. As he helped her off the bike, Ramsey said, protect, not serve. Pardon? She had lost the thread of their discussion. You said we exist to serve. Not quite correct. We exist to protect the families by ensuring their survival through the marriage system, among other things. At the moment, losing the Ravens cast is our biggest threat because we have lost the ability to control the dragons, and the knights will disintegrate if something isn't done that threatens you, not them, she said. The families are in early stages of testing their own fertility treatments, so marriage will be less and less strict with every generation. We can choose to have girls, whole generations of them, if we want. Even if we hadn't lost the Ravenscars and their redemption, so what? Nights couldn't have lasted forever. This has just sped things up. Don't be so short sighted. We have plenty of use still. He tucked a pair of bike gloves into one pocket. Follow me, please. We are on a tight schedule and must cover a lot of ground. She took half a step toward Kai, sleepy but stirring in the arms of another knight. We'll meet up with him again at the end of your little tour. Ramsey stepped in front, cutting off her view. The quicker we do this, the quicker you see him again. The knight carrying Kai was already moving swiftly in the opposite direction. If he was not especially loving in his hold, he was at least competent and not unkind. Head cradled, knees supported, Devon clenched her fists, watching them disappear around a corner, then reluctantly followed Ramsay through another series of internal security gates and into the castle proper. Family manors were all lush in one way or another. The Winterfields had lavish and stately decor. The Easterbrooks opted for contemporary yet expensive. Even the Fairweathers, old and debt riddled as they were, had contained the remnants of extravagance and carpets and tapestries and chandeliers. Book eaters had a fondness for trappings and books. Naturally, nothing of that legacy showed in this compound. Concrete walls stood bare and grey. The tiled floor shone polished but plain. No lights, only darkness. No accommodations for human visitors or any nod toward human culture. Presumably they had books to eat, though none were on display. No unique book sent either. Devon wondered what grown up knights consumed. The hall branched into two directions. Devon was about to keep going straight when Ramsey caught her shoulder. Not that way. She let herself be nudged down the other corridor. What's down the other route? Barracks and training. Nothing you need to see. He put a hand on the door. We'll take a route through the dragon. Pens instead. Pens? An in joke. In the corridor beyond were a series of cell doors with viewing panels at head height. Some were open heart in throat. She stepped closer to peer through thick glass. A solid white room, the walls and floors layered in white soundproofing. Not much space. 8ft on all sides. A white table with one white chair. Insanely bright white lights, which would be annoying even for a human and were surely headache inducing for an eater of any stripe. A youngish looking dragon, 18 or so, was dressed in all white clothes and curled on an all white bed, arms around his head. I don't get it. Devon stepped back, uneasy for reasons she couldn't quite pinpoint. Nothing in the room had been unusually cruel, per se, and yet the sight of that cell made her teeth hurt. What's the point of this? Extreme sensory deprivation. Ramsey came to stand at her shoulder, sometimes melodramatically referred to as white torture. We use it as a form of depersonalization therapy to keep the cravings at bay. Something must have alerted the dragon inside. He raised his head and sat up, staring at them with wide, bloodshot eyes. She grimaced. How long do they spend in there? In where? Their rooms. That's his personal room. They all sleep in that kind of place when not on duty. Yes, which at present is most of the time. The dragon got up and padded over on bare feet, scrabbling anxiously at the viewing panel. He did not look at Ramsey at all, only Devon. That's awful. Typical princess mentality. Ramsey rolled his eyes. The lives they have now are strict, but it's still a stride in improvement from 70 years ago, when they'd just be dead. The dragon pressed his face to the viewing panel, tongue hanging. Flaccid saliva ran down the glass. He looked miserable, eyes red from frequent crying. This is cruel. Devon pressed a palm to her side of the glass, trying hard not to imagine Kai in such a place. There must be a better way to treat them. Don't be stupid. Ramsey plucked her hand away and slammed the viewing panel shut, cutting off all sight of the dragon within. Hunger is a powerful thing, especially when it is a hunger for dominance and violence. Few people can resist the temptation to abuse power. The fucking irony of you saying that, she snapped. You. You don't care about Kai, and you're not talking to me out of kindness. Why are we here? Why were you coming to collect me yesterday? Finally, some intelligent questions. Let's get out of this area first. I do have a round table of sorts to show you, since you asked earlier. He shut the remaining viewing panels as they walked down. It didn't escape Devon's notice that most of the rooms were empty. Come to think of it, the whole building seemed a little empty. Hardly any other people walking around were knights leaving. Ramsey's innocuous decision to not walk her past the barracks took on a new interpretation. Maybe he felt the need to obfuscate how bad things were for them. Another door, followed by a set of stairs. Devon walked after, glad to leave behind the white corridor with its horrible white cells. The stairwell exited into a raised viewing gallery encased in glass and overlooking an operating theatre. Surgeons and nurses moved around an oval table, passing instruments back and forth as they worked on their unconscious patient. Not just any patient. A small dark figure. Kai. Devon slammed herself against the glass, thumping with both fists. Kai. One of the surgeons looked up, squinted, and went back to work. The rest didn't appear to notice. I suggest you relax. Ramsey took his own advice, flinging himself into a viewing chair. The procedure will be done in less than an hour. Quick and painless, and your boy will never remember. She whirled, fists raised. What are you doing to him? Hit me and neither of you will live to find out. Devon counted to 20, willing herself to calm incrementally. Everything was tipped against her and she had to push it all aside, survive moment by moment. She allowed herself a shudder, tamping down on the roiling emotions. Sit, he said, as if she were a dog. We talk like adults, eh? There was nothing else she could do. Sundered by impotent fury, Devon sat, not taking her eyes off the surgery below Kai was half buried beneath the medical equipment and gowns. Your son is being fitted with a surgically implanted explosive device, one that I can set off at a distance using satellite signals, he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, a harsher version of an old technique we used to employ against particularly resistant brides on rare occasions. The air was missing from Devon's throat, as if her lungs had suddenly calcified. At what point had her brother lost himself so badly? The answer came welling up, unwelcome and foul, the moment she'd condemned him to a life among knights when they were children. I thought we should get that out. The way, Ramsay went on. Now you know why he's down there. Put a foot wrong, give me a reason to doubt you, and the trigger gets pressed. Try to take it out yourself and you'll set it off. No matter the distance, neither of you will be safe. He crossed long legs with casual indifference. If you want Kai to live past today, or if you ever want that device removed safely, then listen. You haven't told me what you want yet. I want my order back, he said. Powerful. Strong. Protective. The way things are supposed to be. Through us Eaters have thrived in this country for the past century. That's due to the Ravens, Kaz, she retorted. The knights had nothing to do with the drug being developed. You just benefited from it. He ignored her. And yet many of the patriarchs resent that. Even though we were the ones to enforce marriages, keep the species alive, and drag the older families into modern times, they are not allowed to forget us so quickly. Do you understand? Devon certainly did understand. Ramsay was like a CEO trying to shore up a dying company, or a dictator refusing to surrender. It was always the same story, she thought tiredly. Just small, angry men clinging to fading power. They feared living without privilege because they'd abused it against others and were now terrified of suffering the same cruelty they'd routinely dealt out. Personally, she didn't see how reclaiming redemption or the use of dragons was going to save the knights in the long term. But that didn't matter to Ramsey and his ilk. He only cared how it affected him in the short term. Aloud, Devon said, none of that has anything to do with putting an explosive device in Kai's body. Can't you guess? He said. My commander and I have developed a little plan, rather straightforward, and it goes like this. We find out where the raven scars have gone and we get someone to join them. Someone who they'll believe and feel sympathetic toward who shares their values and whatnot. Then we use that person to track the Ravenscars to their hiding spot and descend in the night. Capture them, take their drug supply and ring the siblings for information on how to make it. That's fucking insane, devon managed. Yet here you are, Dev, falling out of the sky like a pot o gold with a rainbow attached. I could not have planned that fiasco with Matley if I'd tried. He was laughing again. The whole world and its relentless cruelty was endlessly amusing to Ramsay. Pretend to go on the run for Matley's murder and we'll pretend to pursue the Ravens cars. Should they find you, will believe you are a fugitive. Except none of it's quite pretend. Isn't this a wonderful bit of drama? I Her head was reeling, her heart wrung with bewildered misery from the complexity of it all. Why would they ever want to find me? How am I supposed to join a random group of dissidents I've never met? Ramsey held up a finger, poked it in his own ear, and then mined an expression of dying that was somewhere between ridiculous and grotesque. Mocking Matley, she realised, and didn't know how to feel about that. Kai is guilty of particide as they are, he said, I think they will find you both very tempting indeed. Birds of a feather and all that. Must get lonely by themselves, eh? In the theatre below, the procedure was wrapping up, hands washed up, aprons crumpled and tossed away, gloves discarded neatly. Kai lay still and inert. I'm not a spy, she said. I'm not even a knight. I'm just authentic, he said, leaning toward her. Desperate, trapped. A good thinker on your feet, occasionally imaginative in a way that many of us are not. You are everything we need and more, Dev. Perfect for the role. Kai was being wheeled away out of her agonised and fretful sight. Lucky me, she said, watching until Kai's trolley was gone and the theatre completely empty. How about you don't give me that rubbish? Because I've been playing roles all my life like a good little princess, and now I've just watched my brother implant his nephew with a device that can kill him. Ramsey's amusement faded. Fine. Allow me to rephrase. You're a car piece in the game. You're not a player or in a position to win. Only a position to be useful. Be useful or get discarded. He rapped his forehead with a finger. You're free to go anytime you like, but I don't think you will, because that would mean abandoning Kai and you'll never do it. He was right. She hated that it was true, but hated the thought of leaving Kai even more. Wasn't that what it came down to in the end? Every single time? She wasn't stupid, knew he'd dispose of her and Kai when done with them. The alternative was one or both of them dying even faster. I don't know how to survive out there, she said through clenched teeth. I've never lived among humans or. Or anything. We can prep you. It'll take a few months, but we'll need that time anyway to track down their human suppliers. Ramsey stood and stretched leisurely. I'll go and make sure the procedure has gone smoothly. If it has, you may come see your boy. Wait here. He strode out of sight, leaving her in the darkened viewing gallery. No one else was in sight, but she knew better than to run. This was a sealed compound full of knights and dragons, and her son was still elsewhere in the building, held hostage now with an explosive in his belly. Devon curled up in quiet emptiness. If she disobeyed the knights, they'd either turn her over to the families or kill Kai from a distance. If she refused to comply, neither of them would leave this building alive. Even if she could remove the device later, her son still needed the drugs, still needed the ravens cars. And yet if she obeyed the knights dutifully, she would end up in a shallow grave, scapegoated for their crimes while her children were fed like grist to a mill. She was too dangerous, a loose end to leave hanging. All her options ended in death and failure. Her usefulness expired. She was a dead woman walking. Devon smiled. They There had to be a moment, she thought, where you could pinpoint the tides of an ocean turning. A single specific flicker of time, recordable, measurable, where the waves stopped retreating and started advancing up the beach again. This, surely, was such a moment for her. For the first time in years, her heart seemed to float within her chest, free and light and calm. Fear had been an anchor dragging her down, and the certainty of death had finally cut that chain. If all this politicking were a card game, the knights believed they had stacked the deck against her to cover every eventuality, and if she could not win, then she no longer had anything to lose. She would play with all she had, because there was no other choice. And taking away her options, Ramsay had set her free. All she had to do was figure out a plan of her own.
- [47:20]
A
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