Guardians (30 page)

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Authors: Susan Kim

BOOK: Guardians
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And so,
he thought,
had Esther
.

With Saith vanquished, Gideon felt that he was finally exorcising the ghost of Esther as well. Even though he had had her killed weeks before, her memory still haunted him, appearing in his dreams when he least expected it.
He would,
he thought,
be free at last of her lingering and disturbing presence
. And without any female to drag him down, he could finally live the life he deserved.

Nur, of course, remained. With a pang, Gideon recalled that he had promised her a lot in exchange for Saith's death. It had perhaps been a stupid blunder to offer such a deal, yet he had been desperate.
Still,
he thought,
she would be easy enough to handle
.

Gideon's pacing had taken him to the main lobby. It was now early morning, and through the main glass doors, he saw a crowd already waiting in the street. Even from this distance, he could see that many of them were obviously ill: Held up by friends, their faces were hollowed out with pain and fever. He felt a wave of contempt for all of them. They were waiting to see Saith, no doubt, to demand an explanation, an apology, or, just as unlikely, a miracle. Instead, her guards would take care of them, as they had so many before. This dance would continue until the crowd grew tired of the betrayal and decided to take matters in its own hands.

He turned to go, leaving the sight of them behind.

Then he stopped.

His eye had been drawn to a slight figure in the street, standing apart from the others. Studying her, he saw that she was just a thin girl, and draped in a white hooded robe. Gideon laughed to himself and shook his head.
His victory over Saith had driven him a little crazy,
he thought.
It was making him hallucinate
.

But the laughter died on his lips as the girl glanced up. Gazing directly at him, she seemed to hear what he was thinking . . . and his heart stopped.

It was Esther.

Although he could see only a sliver of her face amid the folds of her hood, Gideon would have recognized her anywhere.
Esther appeared to be talking to someone next to her, a person who kept his head down. Then the crowd shifted and the two figures disappeared from sight.

Gideon staggered back a step.

Esther was still alive. But how was that possible?

Gideon forced himself to find blame. Anger, unlike fear, grounded him and gave him direction.

It was clear he had been betrayed. And the only person who could have done it was Eli.

Gideon had given the boy one last chance, and as payment for his kindness, Eli had conspired against him. He had never ordered Esther's execution and shot her himself, as he had claimed. He had given her some lighter sentence, one that had allowed her to escape with her life. And why? Gideon could think of only one reason: that Eli was still in love with her, a cowardly, disgusting motivation.

Whatever she was planning, Esther had to be stopped. But first, Eli would pay for what he had done.

Gideon would make sure of it.

TWENTY-THREE

E
LI CROUCHED BEFORE THE FREESTANDING COUNTER, HIS HANDS PLACED
on the bottom drawer. The twin metal knobs felt smooth and cool to the touch.

Then with great difficulty, he forced himself to let go.

His last few bottles of proof were stashed inside. When he had quit drinking, the idea of “forever” had seemed too hard to bear. As a result, he had kept these last flasks, just in case. Now he was sorry he had saved them, for it was too great a temptation.

Several nights ago, Nur had come to see him and confided in whispers that she had poisoned Saith. Although he was
shocked by her cold-bloodedness, Eli concluded that it was a good thing; Saith's death would save lives and end all kinds of suffering. Yet it raised disturbing questions as well. What would become of Nur, the last friend Eli had in the world? And how would Gideon respond? With the priestess gone, Gideon would have complete and unchecked power. What would he do with it?

All of these unknowns made Eli deeply uneasy. Although it was early morning, he longed to soothe himself with a drink, especially when faced with the most unnerving question of all:

What would happen if Gideon found out about Esther?

Eli knew he was only tormenting himself by asking it. After all, no one had seen Esther escape; their secret was surely safe. Yet he also knew that with Saith dead, he would most likely be relieved of his job. As the system fell apart, who knew what buried truths might surface? Uncertain, he once again lowered himself in front of the cabinet and placed a hand on the drawer.

Then he froze.

He thought he saw a white shape move behind him, reflected in the polished band of metal that edged the counter. Unnerved, Eli stood and swiveled around, his heart thundering. Like all of the stores in the District, his room had no door, just an entry that was open to the atrium. Downstairs, he could faintly hear the sound of the crowd outside, disciples clamoring to be let in. But other than that, he sensed nothing.

The boy gave a shaky laugh and turned back to the drawer.
Perhaps he needed that drink more than he thought
.

Then, as if from nowhere, a hand clapped over his mouth
and something that felt like an iron band tightened around his neck.

Terrified, Eli tried to scream as he clutched impotently at the arm that cut off his breath. Then he heard a voice close to his ear.

“I ain't gonna hurt you. Just be quiet.”

Eli stopped struggling, and as his assailant released his grip, he whirled around to confront him.

The hired gun called Trey stood in front of him. Eli gaped at him, but the other boy's expression was unreadable.

“Let's go,” Trey said.

Eli hesitated, his mind whirling. He glanced over Trey's shoulder to see if anyone was behind him, a trap waiting to be sprung: There wasn't. Even so, Eli backed away, frightened and suspicious.

“Who are you working for now?” he asked.

“No one,” said Trey. “This is for Esther. She wants you out of here, before we attack. We're outside—dozens of us.”

Eli felt as if the ground had opened underneath him. “But . . .” he began, aware that he was flushing a deep red. He was stunned to learn that Esther not only was thriving but had returned to the District to wage war against Gideon and Saith.

Yet what disturbed him the most was the fact that she intended to save him.

No one except Eli and Gideon knew the truth about Aras's death. The guilt of it still tormented him, and now it filled him with fresh despair. Would Esther want to rescue him if she knew that it was he who had killed her partner in cold blood?
Did Eli deserve to be saved?

Trey glanced up. Then Eli heard it, too. Someone was approaching from down the hall and moving fast.

Trey shot a look at Eli. “It sound like you ain't got much time to decide.”

He took off and disappeared around the corner. After one more moment of uncertainty, Eli ran after him.

Trey had already vanished. Panicked, Eli glanced around. He saw the boy in white beckoning from farther down the hall. When Eli caught up, Trey grabbed him hard by the shirtfront.

“Keep up,” he ordered. Then he began to run.

Eli, who hadn't moved quickly in months, was soon panting and drenched with sweat. Trey yanked him down the hallway, darting in and out of stores and behind columns. Within seconds, they had made it to the hidden staircase at the far end of the corridor. Inside, the darkness didn't make Trey slow down; in fact, he took entire landings in a single leap. As Eli was dragged behind Trey, he stumbled more than once and nearly broke his neck.

Soon, they had reached the lobby; Trey opened the door a crack and peered through. Two guards passed by outside and as Trey ducked back, he tugged on Eli's arm as a warning to stay quiet.

Trey waited until the pair had disappeared. Then he shoved open the door and tried to pull Eli out into the corridor with him. But the other boy stood as if rooted to the spot.

“You all gonna fight Saith's guards?” he said. “You can't win.” Eli wrenched his arm away from Trey's grip. “Wait here.”
Then, before Trey could stop him, he took off up the dark stairwell.

Eli didn't know how he was able to run so quickly up the stairs that seemed so steep and endless. Yet he knew exactly where he was headed: a small room on the eighth floor. He burst out onto the hall, which was blessedly empty. Then he found what he was looking for.

Minutes later, he reappeared in the lobby, where an impatient Trey was still hiding, waiting for him. Eli gasped for breath, his heart pounding. Trembling with exhaustion, he nearly dropped the large cardboard carton he was carrying.

Trey glanced inside before looking up. Something like admiration flashed across his face.

“Is that everything they got?” he asked.

Eli nodded. “I think so.”

Trey nodded once. “Nice,” he said.

The container was filled with dozens of unopened cardboard boxes. And within each were hundreds of copper-plated bullets.

The two boys made it to the side exit. Across the lobby, Trey could see that a huge mob had gathered outside by the front entrance. There looked to be close to a hundred people milling about, far more than Esther's meager army, yet they were indistinguishable in their hooded robes as they pushed and shouted.

Then he heard the thud of footsteps approaching fast behind him.

His heart thundering, Trey attempted to pull the door open
wide enough to squeeze through. They had only a few seconds: Three guards were running across the lobby, coming straight at them with their weapons drawn.

Trey was already fumbling to retrieve his gun when Eli turned to face them.

“Don't be crazy,” Trey snapped as he pulled him back. But the other boy shook his head.

“The only bullets they've got left are in their guns,” he said. “Once those are gone, you'll be clear.”

Trey began to reply, but Eli had already taken off. A shot rang out, then another; both were instantly followed by the crack of the bullet hitting marble and skittering across the floor. But Eli, zigzagging toward the other end of the atrium, was right: He had managed to draw their attention and their fire.

Trey cursed under his breath; he had no choice but to take the chance the boy had given him. He pried open the side door. Then, still carrying the box, he squeezed out and onto the street. Behind him, he heard three more shots in quick succession, then silence. Only then did he dare to glance back, and to his relief, he saw Eli trailing him.

Gideon spun in a circle, unsure where to go.

Eli was not in his room. As infuriating as that was, he realized that he had a far more pressing problem. Even from where he stood on the second floor, he could clearly hear the commotion from outside. The mob sounded as if it had doubled or tripled over the past few minutes alone. More and more former
disciples were gathering every minute, all of them screaming Saith's name.

It was only a matter of minutes until they broke in. Once that happened, there was no telling what they would do.

As for Saith, she seemed oblivious to the disaster that was unfolding outside.

She appeared to be going through with her lunatic ceremony up in her chambers. As odd-smelling smoke wafted down through the District, Gideon could hear steady chanting, praying, and the beating of some kind of drum. He couldn't believe that she hadn't heard the noise from downstairs, the shouts and the breaking glass. Even her followers, the devout who lived inside the District and prayed to her each day, were sneaking away in two and threes, despite the harsh punishment that such disrespect would surely bring. He saw them gathered in corridors and on the stairwells, whispering to one another or heading downstairs to see what was happening.

Gideon had always known some kind of reckoning was coming. Yet already this seemed larger and far worse than he had ever imagined.

And it was all because of Esther,
he thought grimly. It was clear that she had planned everything, amassing a mob to take her revenge. Because of her, what would have been a protest had turned into a full-fledged revolution.

Gideon couldn't understand why Saith's guards weren't suppressing the uprising. Early on, he heard a few shots from the sentries downstairs, but after that, nothing.

He himself would not make the same mistake.

Gideon called together his boys—his four strongest and most faithful—and ordered them to follow him up the enclosed staircase. He had one of them stop on the eighth floor to empty the supply closet. The rest of them followed him up to the roof. He would station three of his men in the top of the stairwell; the fourth would stay with him in the garden. Their orders would be to fire on anyone who attempted to gain access.

Yet moments later, the fourth guard appeared on the roof. He reported that the closet was empty; the entire cache of ammunition—thousands of bullets—had vanished.

Gideon felt a little faint. Without weapons, he and his boys were trapped. When the revolutionaries finally broke in—and that became more likely with every second—he too would be destroyed.

He had to keep Esther's mob from breaking into the District.

The only question was how?

Out on the street, Esther was trying to keep her people calm. Heavy air hung over them like a blanket and dark gray clouds had thickened overhead. A ragged excitement buzzed through the crowd, like flames licking the edges of a dry field.

Once it ignited, she didn't know if she could control it.

She and her army had run into others like them, dozens of former followers of Saith who were now sick as well. Bewildered and furious, they clustered outside the glass doors,
frantic to be let inside and given an explanation. Earlier, Esther had ordered her people to stay calm, not speak to anyone, and keep their weapons hidden until it was time to strike. Yet it was clear that no one was obeying her.

Someone from her crew had told one of the others what they were planning; as the word spread, a new restlessness took control of the crowd. “Let us in!” shouted one girl, her voice shrill. “Where is Saith?” demanded another. “Bring us to her!” Still the guards inside did not remove the bar that kept the revolving door from turning; they stood stone-faced, their guns by their sides.

Esther exchanged an uneasy glance with Skar.

“What happens if we can't get in?”

Skar shook her head; she clearly knew no more than Esther.

No sooner had Esther spoken than one of the people hurled a chunk of mortar. It bounced harmlessly off the glass wall, yet the small action seemed to unleash something. The crowd surged forward as one, screaming and shouting. They pushed their way into the round entrance and tried to force the doors to turn. A boy picked up a rusted piece of metal from the street and smashed it into the façade again and again. A spiderweb of white cracks formed as people cheered him on.

The guards inside shrank back. Then one of them fumbled in his waistband. Drawing out a gun, he aimed it at the assailant and Esther flinched. But when he pulled the trigger, it didn't go off. He paused to double-check it, turning to the boy next to him, who did the same.

Moments later, Esther saw a lone figure emerge from around the corner.

Trey was running to join her, a battered cardboard box under one arm. He was glancing back, and a moment later Esther saw who was following him.

Eli appeared around the side of the building. Yet even as Esther called his name, he stumbled and pitched forward. As she ran to catch him, she saw that the back of his shirt was black and glistening.

For the second time in her life, Esther held the boy in her arms. He was struggling to say something, his fingers fluttering as he attempted to pull her close.

“What is it?” she whispered, trying to hear his words.

But even as she stroked his face, trying to give him a moment of relief, a series of violent spasms shook the boy's body.

After that, he was still.

Esther looked up at Trey for an explanation. The boy in white shook his head.

“He drew the guards away from me. Without him, they'd still be armed.” Trey sighed. “Looks like he took their last bullet.”

But there was no time to react.

By now, the crowd was crazed. A heavy wind had begun blowing, gusting grit and whipping everyone's robes. Two boys had grabbed a short silver pole, one with a metal head and a cracked glass face, something found on every sidewalk. Holding it at their waists, they swung it back before smashing
it into a wall of the District. The cracks that were already there widened, and a hundred more formed. A few additional blows and they could break their way in.

Esther heard a strange noise far above: the explosion of glass smashing. An instant later, someone on the ground screamed.

A girl pointed upward, her mouth open in horror. Esther looked up as well and recoiled. What she saw was unbelievable.

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