The Girl Who Dared to Rise Read online

  Because if it came to a straight-up fight, I was quite certain she had me beat.

  26

  I had expected another sleepless night, but to my surprise, I closed my eyes when I got in bed and didn’t open them again until my alarm started to chirp on my wrist—the next morning. In fact, getting so much sleep left me feeling slightly disoriented, and it took me several seconds to remember exactly what had happened yesterday.

  And what was set to happen today. Namely, that it was Dylan’s turn to be in charge, and my turn to follow. After yesterday, that was going to be more difficult than it sounded. Not that Dylan was a bad leader, per se; she just had an aggressiveness that put me on edge. She preferred to handle things through combat, and had trained us rigorously in that regard.

  What was worse, she didn’t seem to have time for anyone’s ideas save her own. In the challenges she ran us through, if any of us offered an idea, she had immediately dismissed it. Never rudely, and never without reasoning, but I noticed it nonetheless, and I wasn’t the only one. Maddox had been grumbling about it all through the late dinner we’d had, and kept going right up until I closed my door to get some much-needed rest.

  Sighing, I ran a hand over my face, scraping away the urge to ignore all of my problems for more sleep, and then got out of bed, determined not to concern myself with my Dylan difficulties until I was firmly ensconced in the shower stall of my bathroom, with scalding hot water roiling over me, easing the tension that had accumulated in my muscles.

  The hot water did its job in helping to release some of my stress, and as I began to scrub myself clean, I turned my mind back to Dylan.

  Considering yesterday’s training session, I had every chance of seizing leadership during the next challenge as soon as she acted too aggressively (which would undoubtedly be sooner rather than later), but a part of me wondered if I should. Dylan wasn’t terrible; she just had a style of leadership that didn’t jive with my own. And there were things she did that had been good, like teaching us all some takedowns that I had never seen before, as well as showing us a few lasso moves using our lashes. Each bit of information she had given us had cost her in terms of an advantage over me, but she didn’t complain, gripe, or even bring it up.

  I kept flip-flopping about whether she had done so out of a sense of nobility or in her own self-interest, and it kept me from making a decision on what exactly to do. On the one hand, her leadership style was flawed, and as long as Leo and Maddox went along with what I said, I’d be able to take control at the first mistake she made.

  On the other… didn’t she deserve a fair shake, if only for the fact that it wasn’t her fault she was stuck on my team?

  I knew what everyone else would say—I even knew what I should say—but it still left me twisted up inside, like everything below my chest was slowly tying up into a giant knot that seemed to contain every nerve ending in my body. I didn’t like the idea of planning to steal the leadership position from Dylan, no matter who or what she was. It was unfair, and wouldn’t give the Knights in the Tourney an opportunity to see who exactly she was as a leader.

  Then I got soap in my eye, and had to laugh at the ridiculous reminder that life wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to me, and it certainly wasn’t fair to her.

  No. Life was decidedly unfair, and it fell on us to make it fair. In fact, that was what rules were all about, right?

  Scipio had certainly made them very clear: I could steal command out from under her, and there would be nothing she could do about it, especially if I thought her course of action was foolhardy. But if I walked in there and took command from her without giving her a chance, it would potentially hurt my chances with the Knights themselves.

  Or worse, if she managed to stop me from wresting control, like I had with her yesterday, it would make me look like a fool in front of them, thus weakening my chances of winning. It was a risk if I did and a risk if I didn’t, and half of me just wanted to walk away before we even got there.

  And then I remembered what was at stake—namely the continued existence of the Tower—and the vicious circle began all over again.

  Thank Scipio we only had six minutes for a shower. I ran out of water long before the question could drive me insane, and I quickly busied myself with drying off before leaving the bathroom.

  When I emerged in a cloud of steam, I was immediately greeted with the scent of breakfast. It filled the hall, making my mouth water, though I managed to ignore the sudden sharp yowl of my stomach and continue to the bedroom.

  I wished I could remember who had volunteered to cook this morning, but only dinner followed by a brief net transmission with Tian really stood out from the foggy recesses of my memory. I quickly entered my room, grabbing a fresh uniform.

  As I did, my mind drifted back to my conversation with Tian from the night before. She had nothing really to report, save that Rose had been moving them around a lot, and that there was no update as to who Rose’s mysterious target might be, or when the attack might possibly occur.

  I was worried about Tian’s safety with the sentinel, and hated the fact that there was nothing we could do to help her at the moment. Scipio help me, I was really beginning to hate the Tourney.

  I emerged several minutes later, uniform in place and bracelet around my wrist. Leo and Maddox were already in the shared living area, several plates of steaming hot food in place on the low table. Both were eating, but paused as I entered, looking up at me expectantly.

  “Hey,” Maddox said around a mouthful of food. “How’d you sleep?”

  I frowned. “Surprisingly good. You?”

  She bit her lip. “Not as good, but thanks for asking. You just missed Quess, though. He ran off early this morning to repair a few of the drones before today’s challenge.”

  “Is he still mad at me?”

  Maddox’s mouth worked as she looked down at the table, and I realized I had upset her with the question. The three of us hadn’t really talked since our fight before being reunited with Tian, and while Maddox had come through for us yesterday (not that I had doubted she would), things weren’t exactly right between us. There was a tension—almost like someone holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen or who would speak first.

  “You know what?” I said, sitting down in a free chair and picking up a plate. “Just forget I said anything, okay?”

  “No, I don’t want to do that,” she said, sighing and setting her fork down with a sharp click. “Look, Liana, Quess and I talked about it, and you were right. I mean, we knew you were right even then, but Quess was worried about Tian, and I…” She trailed off and looked to one side, her eyes growing distant and sad. “Well, let’s just say that I know that I’m pretty screwed up right now, and I’ve got… a lot of anger inside of me about what happened. But you and Quess and everyone are right, and I promise that as soon as the Tourney is over, I’ll go to the Medica and get some help.”

  “Really?” I asked, looking up at her. I was surprised and pleased by her change of heart, but it threw me off. Nobody came to a realization that quickly. “What changed your mind?”

  She looked down and away before answering. “Quess.” She sighed and shook her head, picking at some peppers on her plate before setting her fork back down with a click. “He was angry, yes, but he knew he wasn’t angry with you. I… I didn’t know that. I couldn’t see that. I was so furious and angry that I wanted to walk out the door, and when he told me I could do it without him, I…” She paused again, her face filling with sorrow as her voice became ragged and hoarse. “I actually considered it. Just for a second.”

  I wasn’t surprised by her words, but they made my heart ache nonetheless. And I couldn’t blame her for wanting to walk away after everything she had been through—she had experienced not one, but several traumatic events.

  A tear dropped down her cheek, and she scrubbed it off before sucking in a deep breath. “That’s when I knew that I needed help. I would never do that… before. I’m
so, so sorry, Liana.”

  Her voice broke on my name, and before I could stop myself, I threw my arms around her and hugged her close. “It’s okay, Maddox,” I breathed, giving her a squeeze. To my surprise, she hugged me back. I knew how hard it was to apologize, let alone admit to my own mistakes, and I appreciated that to no end. Even if there wasn’t anything for her to apologize for. She was dealing with a lot, and it took guts for her to face it. All I cared about was that she was taking care of herself.

  “It really is okay, Maddox,” I repeated, slowly pulling back from the hug. “I’m just glad that you didn’t decide to leave.”

  She scoffed and took a big bite of toast. “As if I could do that. You idiots have become family, whether I like it or not.” She smiled then, and I was beyond elated to see that some of it touched her eyes. “And I guess I kind of like it. Oh, and give Quess a little bit of time. You hurt his feelings by giving him that ultimatum, so he’s sitting on his apology until some of his butt-hurt passes.”

  I chuckled, and then nodded. “Fair enough. How are you all feeling about today and what’s about to happen?”

  It was a rapid change of topics, but we hadn’t really talked about what our plan would be for dealing with Dylan being in charge for this round of the Tourney, and our time was running short. We had to report to the arena soon, and I needed to see how they were feeling about following Dylan, and the challenge ahead—a challenge we desperately needed to win if I wanted any chance of becoming Champion. I wanted them to at least try to give Dylan a chance, if only to keep arguments down to a minimum in case the challenge was timed.

  “Yeah, what’s about to happen is that we’re going to completely ignore Dylan and follow your lead,” Maddox said.

  “I already said that isn’t a wise idea,” Leo said, finally breaking the silence he had adopted during my exchange with Maddox. “If Liana fails to assert command, much like Dylan did yesterday, then she will only make a fool of herself. Besides, Scipio suggested that she has to prove that she can follow as well as lead, and not many of the leaders are doing that! It could be a viable strategy to show that she follows the letter of the law—I think many of the older Knights would find that appealing, given the demographics I’ve been studying.”

  “Nobody cares about that!” Maddox retorted. “If she falls into the background, people will forget about her. Not to mention, if we let Dylan actually lead, we’re going to lose this challenge!”

  “We don’t know that, and Liana can keep herself in the public eye by performing stunts like she did yesterday for the drones!”

  I watched the exchange between them for a moment, smiling ruefully as they parroted some of the exact concerns I’d had in the shower, and then cleared my throat, politely interrupting them.

  “Look, I know you don’t want me to say this, but if I’m really honest with you guys, I can’t seem to make up my mind about what to do. A part of me wants to wait for a good moment and try to steal command, but Leo has a point: if I fail, it could cost me the challenge. But… I also feel a little bad for Dylan. She got handed a pretty raw deal—”

  “Providing she isn’t in bed with our enemies,” Maddox scoffed haughtily, folding her arms across her chest.

  I gave her a look, my mouth still open to speak, and then nodded. “Providing that,” I amended, before continuing. “Regardless, I’m not sure I’m completely comfortable plotting to pull the rug out from under her, so to speak.”

  “Are you kidding?” Maddox sputtered, raising an eyebrow. “Liana, you are the one who said you wanted to be Champion. To prevent the evil legacy group from getting another foothold on the council. To help us figure out a way to escape! And to keep Lacey and Strum from killing us all! And now you’re going to balk at taking advantage of the rule changes to take command?”

  I stared at her, not fully able to meet her eyes. She was right, and I knew it. But at the same time, something inside me still refused to bend: my integrity. Planning to do something illegal that would save thousands of lives was one thing. Doing this, even if it was totally within the rules, left a bad taste in my mouth.

  “Look, I know you don’t like it, but I just can’t do it. If she does something that I think is going to lose us the challenge, then yes, I will step in. But I can’t plan for it. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but—”

  Maddox laughed, a deep, rich sound that cut me off, and I looked over at her to see a broad smile filled with mirth. “Oh, in that case,” she said with a feline smile, “I’ll bet you one day’s rations that Liana will step in within five minutes.” She turned to Leo as she said that, her green eyes blazing.

  He cocked his head at her and then shook his head. “No bet,” he said after a moment. “I calculate the odds of Liana having to step in will be highest during the first two minutes.”

  I fought back a smile. They either thought I couldn’t restrain myself, or that Dylan would make mistakes right from the get-go, and I was certain that it was the latter, not the former. “You guys are mean,” I said, picking up a fork and finally taking a bite of food from one of the plates, without even bothering to transfer it to my own. “Dylan just has a different style than I do.”

  Maddox arched an eyebrow, looking highly doubtful, and Leo took an opportunity to take another piece of toast while studiously avoiding eye contact. I laughed again, and shook my head. “Just be nice.”

  Maddox smiled ruefully. “Fine. But a girl can dream about knocking Dylan down a peg or two, right?”

  I grinned and shook my head. “Absolutely.”

  Half an hour later we were back in the small room, watching Scipio’s face fill the screen. Dylan stood next to me, her eyes completely focused on his ghostly image, her face held in rapt attention as she listened to what he was saying.

  I didn’t need to pay attention. Once he had said “Challenge of the Gate,” I had tuned out. I had studied this particular challenge extensively throughout my time in the Academy, and knew everything there was to know about it. The six remaining teams would be combined into two larger teams of twelve. One team would be given the task of attacking the “gate,” as if they were assaulting an undoc hideout, while the other team would be defending it, their idea being that they were defending the Tower from outside invaders.

  Not that there were any, of course. But it was one of the main duties of the Knights, handed down from the very beginning of the department, and the challenge was tradition. Each side would be given thirty minutes to plan their assault or defense, and we were allowed to use anything we could salvage from around the area we were dropped into, to improve either our attacks or defenses accordingly. Full-on combat against our enemies would be authorized.

  Whichever team managed to achieve their objective would make up the candidates for the final challenge.

  Instead of paying attention to Scipio as he gave instructions, I scanned the crowd for my mother. Her team had finished the challenge yesterday with seven minutes to spare, which meant that she was here. It didn’t take long to find her standing at the front of the room with Lieutenant Zale, my father, and their friend Min-Ha Kim.

  I stared for a second, and then decided I couldn’t wait any longer—I needed to know what was going on with her, and what had happened after I left the other night. A part of me was deeply worried that my father had lost his temper and hurt her. Or worse, threatened to report both of us for sedition and treason if she didn’t get in line and turn away from me.

  Or worst of all, perhaps I had been right all along, and my parents had been testing me to see how much I knew. At least I had the good sense to keep a lot of things back, but even still… What if I had made a mistake in what I had revealed, and now they were somehow planning to use it against me? I wasn’t sure, and I definitely didn’t want to believe that my parents had played me.

  Either way, I had to find out.

  “Excuse me for a second,” I whispered to everyone, and then discreetly began to make my way over to her. I came up
from behind her, and then reached out and tugged gently on the back of her sleeve. She half turned, saw it was me, and then quickly faced me, her hand firmly on my shoulder to push me a few steps deeper into the throng of people behind us.

  “Liana,” she whispered a second later, casting a look back over her shoulder at her teammates. “You shouldn’t be approaching me right now. Your father told Zale that my loyalties were questionable, and they’ve been shutting me out ever since.”

  I could tell by the twist of her mouth that she wasn’t happy with my father’s actions, and I wasn’t particularly pleased, either. He had no right to do that to her. She was a Knight every bit as high as he was, in caliber and rank, and she had not acted as dishonorably as he had, in my opinion. What we had been talking about wasn’t even fully related to the challenge, for crying out loud!

  But I put my anger aside and focused on the matter at hand: finding out whether she was okay. “What happened after I left?”

  She sighed and looked around. “Look, all you need to know is that this fight between your father and me has nothing to do with you. Not really.”

  I gave her a disbelieving look “Mom, don’t try to sell me that story. Everything I do makes Dad angry.” I paused, and then decided to address my suspicion of her first—though I felt bad about it. I shouldn’t need to fish for validation that she was on my side, but our relationship had never been trusting before. I had to know. “And—don’t take this the wrong way—but it also had a similar effect on you, until recently. So you’ll forgive me if I’m finding the fact that he doesn’t ‘actually’ blame me a little unbelievable.”

  She frowned, sadness unfurling in her eyes. Her hand reached up suddenly, and at first I flinched away, years of being slapped in the face making the action ingrained at this point. I stopped myself, but my mother noticed, and her sadness deepened. Still, she didn’t stop, and cupped my cheek, smiling tremulously at me.