The Gender Fall Read online

  I nodded, having come to the same conclusion during my meeting with their leaders. “Well, at least it’s something. Meera is really fired up about going after Desmond, but we convinced her to stand down for the time being. Still, I don’t know how long we can keep them from going after her themselves.”

  Ms. Dale frowned, her expression drifting away as she thought about it. Then she shook her head. “We’ll have to worry about that later.”

  “Yup.”

  One of the Liberator men came up to Ms. Dale and began talking to her about the amount of equipment and the room in the vehicles, and I took it as my cue to leave—I could walk back to the house and leave the cars to take the bulk of our equipment. After all, Dr. Tierney had practically ordered me to bed… I began moving toward the cars, ready to get back to the house and check on Violet. As I approached the lead vehicle, I started to slow, then came to a stop when I saw a man wearing handcuffs in the passenger seat. “Uh… Ms. Dale?”

  I turned back and caught her eye. She murmured some quick orders to the man and then jogged over. “What?”

  “Why?” I asked, pointing at the man in the car.

  “Why the restraints?”

  I nodded, and she gave an exasperated huff and crossed her arms. “That’s something I needed to talk to you about. That’s Cad—Violet’s cousin. One of the men caught him sneaking back onto base a few hours ago.”

  “Onto the base?”

  She nodded, her ponytail bobbing. “Yup. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with him.”

  “Didn’t Amber bring him and his family back in the heloship? After she picked up the women on the side of the road?” I wasn’t completely familiar with this part of the story, having been frantically driving around in search of a safe place to treat Violet at the time—I’d just been filled in on the big parts.

  “She did. Violet’s uncle and aunt didn’t want to be part of the war effort, so I sent them to the place I am holding King Maxen. They’re not allowed to leave, but I don’t think they will, since Cad and his wife decided to stay in our camp with their children.”

  I frowned. “Violet’s aunt and uncle left without stopping by to see if their niece was okay?”

  “Yup.” Ms. Dale’s voice had a sharp note to it, and I couldn’t blame her. It was pretty rotten that they would up and leave like that, with no consideration for the woman who was family to them—and was right now half broken because she had risked her life to save theirs. We shared a moment of distaste, and then Ms. Dale continued, “Anyway, I had Cad cuffed and detained in that car so we could keep an eye on him before you got back. I wanted to see what you wanted to do.”

  “But why did he sneak off?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t say.”

  I growled in irritation and then marched toward the car. Cad’s head was tilted toward his hands, and he didn’t seem to notice my approach until I threw open the door. He jumped in surprise, his eyes bulging.

  “Why did you sneak off base?” I demanded.

  Cad shook his head a bit, blinking. Then he opened his mouth and slammed it shut with a click of his teeth, his expression mutinous. He’d probably been asleep in his cuffs.

  Exhaustion made me impatient. “Now is not the time, Cad,” I said, my voice low and guttural. “I’ve had a long couple of days, and if you don’t talk, I’m going to have to assume you’re a spy, working for the enemy.”

  That broke him out of his silence. “I’m not a spy!” Cad shot back, his face flushing red. “I was out there looking for someone.”

  That had not been one of the things I’d expected him to say. The surprise of the realization helped reduce my boiling temper to a simmer. “Who?”

  He gave me a long, hard look before sighing. “I was looking for my cousin.”

  “Violet? She’s in the—”

  “Not Violet. Tim. I heard… I heard some people say he was missing after the stuff at the palace. I put some pieces together and realized he had stayed behind. And since Violet is down for the count right now, I had to do something. So, a little before sunset, I took one of the cars and went back to the palace to look for him.” His reticence was gone, his expression raw, both defiant and guilty.

  I absorbed this knowledge and turned to look at Ms. Dale, whose irritation had disappeared under the carefully crafted neutral expression she’d always worn when I’d first met her.

  A part of me wanted to yell at Cad. He had put us all in jeopardy with that stunt. If he had been caught, he could’ve given away our location. On the other hand, he had done what I hadn’t been able to yet, and I found myself respecting that. He had gone back to the palace to look for his cousin, in spite of the danger. I rocked back on my heels, idly wondering if suicidal bravery ran in the family, and then realized that it also ran in me, so…

  I exhaled and nodded at Ms. Dale. “Let him out of the cuffs,” I said softly. She nodded, and Cad offered up his hands as she moved toward him, searching in her pockets, presumably for the keys.

  “Did you find him?” I asked Cad.

  He shook his head, his face full of regret. “No. There was no one there at all.”

  “You must have seen something,” I insisted. Maybe we could use this impromptu trip for intelligence. “Was there anything odd or out of place?”

  Cad frowned, his gaze becoming unfocused. “When I said there was no one there at all, there was actually no one. I mean, there’s got to be important documents or files there, right? Equipment? People cleaning up the… the mess? But there weren’t any crews sifting through the rubble. There were no bodies, either, but… It’s only been like… what… thirty-six hours since the palace was running just like normal? Maybe forty? Where is everyone?”

  I considered his observations. Definitely odd. I wasn’t sure yet whether it was worrisome, but it was something we could process after I got some sleep. The thing pressing down heavier on me was that he hadn’t found Tim. As much as I wished Cad hadn’t gone on an illicit raid, I wished more he had something to show for it, something that could make the wild light in Violet’s eyes when she asked about her brother disappear forever.

  “Listen,” I told Cad. “I get that you want to help. I do. But next time, you need to clear it with Ms. Dale or myself. It was a big risk going out there, and if you had gotten caught, it would’ve put everyone at the camp in a lot of danger. Right now, this place and these people are all we have.”

  He flinched, but nodded. “All right,” he conceded, but his eyes were still hard. “As long as you promise you aren’t going to stop looking for him.”

  “I won’t,” I vowed solemnly. I had already made that promise to myself; this was just speaking it out loud.

  Cad nodded. “Good. I also would like to see Violet. With all the moving and setting up camp, I haven’t gotten a chance to see her. I tried before I left, but Dr. Arlan told me she was sleeping.” His voice turned sharp, almost pleading. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

  I grimaced and nodded. “She’s not… but hopefully with the equipment and the doctor we just brought back, she will be.”

  “I still want to see her.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and nodded again. “All right. Let’s go.”

  12

  Violet

  Something bright burned into my eyes, and I groaned at the discomfort. I tried closing my eyes against it, but something was holding them open, forcing me to look into the blinding light. Searing pain exploded in my brain, throbbing along the inside of my skull until I felt the heat rushing into my face. I was on fire. I was going to burn to death.

  I jerked violently away, and the movement was agony. I cried out in pain and my breath stalled. “Fire,” I coughed, trying to catch air in my lungs. It must be the smoke, I thought. Red dots flashed across my vision, obscuring bits and pieces of the room I lay in. My peripheral vision showed things clearly, but anything I stared directly at was blurred and unrecognizable.

  Fire? Who had started it? I gasp
ed and tried desperately to figure out what was happening. A bomb—it was a bomb. Had I been thrown somewhere from the force of the blast? Where was Lee? I had to get the egg—after that I could see my brother.

  Shakily, I pushed against the surface I lay on, trying to get up, my panic-stricken mind recognizing one thing: someone was trying to hurt me. But even that motion made me shake violently. I stopped in a sitting position, sweat breaking out on my forehead. I tilted my head up and became aware of heavy footsteps on the wood near me. I tried to swing my head toward the sound, but as soon as I did, the room blurred around me, my head throbbed, and my stomach swooped, almost enough to force me onto my back again. I breathed heavily, coughing, and the footsteps came closer. I couldn’t go back to the bad people. I had to figure out a plan.

  My heart thudded hard against my ribcage, too loud in my ears, and I shuddered when hands came down gently on my back, and a soft voice spoke behind me, fading in and out like a bad handheld connection. The tone of the words was soft and coaxing, but that was even more alarming. They must be trying to trick me. I tried again to turn my head to look at them, but it already felt like my head was turning… I stared at the image of my hands before me, swimming in fabric that covered my legs, as the hands continued trying to shush me. Sheets. I was in bed. Then the hands gripped my shoulders, pushing, and the mattress rushed back to meet my back as my muscles failed to move me, failed to do anything at all.

  God. I was helpless.

  I was on my back again, all my most vital parts completely vulnerable to attack, as an unrecognizable figure leaned down over me and made words. I blinked again and again, trying to clear my vision, straining to focus my eyes in the stabbing light.

  But when the image in front of me finally managed to solidify, horror flooded my body. It wasn’t just a stranger, a guard, a warden—it was Elena, her mouth lifted in a sweet smile while her eyes promised pain. Panic lent strength to my muscles, and I scrambled back as the Queen of Matrus looked down at me.

  The pain that lanced through my body at the motion was nothing compared to what would happen if I didn’t, if I couldn’t get away… But I was moving horribly slowly, my body jerking and weak, like in a nightmare. Elena didn’t move forward immediately, but stared down, her hands held out in front of her as if to help me. She murmured something, reaching out, and I screamed and knocked her hand away with the heavy cast on my right hand, causing her to back up slightly.

  “I killed your sister,” I taunted, my breath heaving.

  Elena was on the right side of the bed, while I’d managed to move almost to the edge. I would fall off it if I had to. Maybe crawl underneath… I could hear her. She frowned, speaking in a gentle, even voice. “Let me help you,” she said.

  I shook my head and began to scoot backwards again, crying out for Viggo, but I couldn’t move fast enough, couldn’t push through the pain… I was as weak as a newborn kitten, and Elena knew it. Her hands came back, and, effortlessly, she began to pull me toward her. I tried to pull away, beating my fists feebly on her shoulder and arm, but she was relentless, pulling me away from the edge of the bed, some unknown punishment in store, no doubt.

  In that moment, I knew I had been wrong. It wasn’t Elena; it was Tabitha. I hadn’t managed to kill her, and now she was here to finish me off before I could. Slowly. The image of her blade slamming into my palm flashed across my head, and I fought back with renewed strength. She was going to butcher me with her shiny silver knife, one cut at a time.

  “Violet!” Tabitha shouted in my ear—my good one—her voice cracking sharply into my skull. “Violet, just let me—”

  “No!” I shouted, jerking my right arm out of her grasp. The cast hung weighty on my arm, and I lashed out with it, driving my hand into the woman’s core. I was rewarded with a loud ‘oof’ and a stab of pain from my own hand so intense I could barely focus to hear it.

  But it had worked. Her hands slipped from me and she backed up, doubling over, resting her hands on her knees. My ribs screaming at the motion, my head reeling, my hand quested about as far as it could reach, searching for a weapon… anything to make sure she couldn’t get near enough to touch me again.

  The woman didn’t say anything. I felt myself go still as she just looked at me, her eyes filled with tears of pain, fear tightening her face. The expression was so wrong, so unfamiliar, that my hands fell to my ears, my mind trying to understand. Tabitha didn’t cry. She didn’t acknowledge pain. If anything, it only made her angrier and more violent.

  There was something here I could not grasp. Something in my brain seemed to be disconnected, something shaking loose or falling into place. I stared, disoriented and dizzy. Whoever it was I had been attacking, it was not Tabitha.

  My breathing was coming in loud pants, and I was sweating and shivering again. I looked around. I was still in the same bedroom, the one at the camp where Ms. Dale and my companions had been. I looked back at the bed, and noticed Viggo wasn’t there anymore. I remembered—he had been here when I’d fallen asleep. When had that been? Had something gone wrong at the camp? Why were they doing this to me? Was there anywhere I was safe?

  A wave of frustration filled me, and I noticed the scalpel sitting on a tray next to the bed—something I hadn’t been able to reach in my panicked grasping earlier. Reaching out with my left hand, I snatched it up and pointed it at not-Tabitha, trying to keep my hand from shaking. “Where’s Viggo?” I shouted.

  Not-Tabitha raised her hands slowly, her palms facing out. She was watching me warily, but there was something… something about her face. “He’s coming soon,” she said slowly, taking great pains to enunciate.

  “You’re lying,” I retorted. Of course she was lying—everyone in my life had lied to me. Rina, Lee, Desmond, Elena, Tabitha… No, that was wrong. I swayed, the knife blurring before me, as the memory came to me of people who hadn’t lied to me. Viggo. Tim. Owen, Quinn, Amber, Henrik, Solomon…

  I repeated their names like a litany in my head, trying to find some way to reconcile my two different realities, unable to accept them both as truth. I became increasingly aware of my body trembling, shivering. A different kind of fear swept through me suddenly. Something was wrong with me. I was losing myself, and I didn’t know how to stop it. I looked back at not-Tabitha, noting the fear in her face and the slight trembling of her hands, and then my eyes drifted down to where I was clutching the scalpel tightly, my fingers bloodless, almost bone-white from the force of my grip.

  Violent Violet. Violent Violet. I dropped the scalpel and folded my hands over my ears, the cast bumping my temple with a flush of pain, as I tried to block out the voices as they sang, taunting me. The air in the room evaporated, and I couldn’t seem to breathe. I gasped as the room spun around me, the voices in my head screaming.

  What was real? I didn’t know anymore. A sweep of cold nausea sucked the blood from my body down deep into my stomach. My head pounded, my body throbbed, and time evaporated, consciousness draining from me.

  I was flat on my back. My left arm, my only good arm, had a needle stuck in it. I felt a groan bubbling up in my throat, but I bit it back, trying to compose myself, using my cast to fumble uselessly at the needle taped to my skin…

  The door opposite me opened, and my eyes grew wide as I watched two men and a woman enter, their faces all fixated on me. Their voices cut back and forth, their faces blurry… Hands fell on my arms and legs, holding me down, and I wheezed in fear. I could barely feel the tears leaking out of my eyes onto my cheeks, the way my breath was coming shorter and shorter, the way my cries were subsiding into moans. My energy was waning fast, and my limbs began to feel leaden. It would be so easy to stop struggling—but who knew what would happen if I calmly let these strangers have their way with me? I couldn’t stop, couldn’t think, and the pain that shot through my side every time I wrenched my hips was getting to be too much.

  The people who held me were talking, but too fast to make any sense and too loud to calm me down. Then
I heard a voice, strong, commanding, powerful… I homed in on it, the warm cadence alone slowing my thrashing, making me stop and breathe.

  “That’s it, Violet. Just take deep breaths, and listen to my voice.”

  I went limp as Viggo’s deep timbre rolled over me, and I sighed and turned toward it. It didn’t stop the pain, but it was enough to make me stop squirming, to get my eyes to focus on what was around me. I looked around, searching for him, but couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see… anything.

  “Am I going blind?” I asked.

  “Are you having problems with your vision?” came a sharp female voice, and I flinched away from it, trying to hide my face without being able to move.

  Viggo’s hands were on my face. I started to lean into them, and then remembered I had been crying, screaming, drooling. Embarrassment flooded me—he shouldn’t have to see me like this. I began to groan as embarrassment added to the stew of helplessness and fear curdling my stomach.

  I heard somebody say something, but it was too far away for me to hear. Viggo was whispering in my good ear, trying to soothe me, his hands stroking my face. “It’s going to be okay, Violet. You’re sick, but we’re going to help you. I promise.” There was a pause. “Your cousin is here.”

  Panic skittered across my numb limbs, and I jerked. “He can’t be here! He can’t see me. If Lee finds out that he knows, he’ll kill him! Please, Viggo! Please.”

  He shushed me, his hands on my hair, trying to soothe me. “You’re safe, Violet. I promise.”

  His words didn’t make any sense. How could we be safe? I was trapped in Patrus, trying to fulfill a mission I knew nothing about. “I’m not supposed to tell you,” I gasped. “I tried to fight him. I tried to tell him no, we could find someone else to blame. I didn’t want it to be you! I didn’t want him to hurt you. You’ve been hurt so much, Viggo. And now I have to hurt you too.”

  Hot tears spilled over my cheeks, and I saw my brother’s face as he fell into the river, his eyes wide and full of terror. He was only eight! Why did they have to take him away? I began to cry in earnest, harsh, violent sobs that seemed to scrape out of my lungs, making my throat raw.