“Where do all these tunnels go?” I ask Madame Clara.

“Most lead to the ports,” she says. “The merchants originally used the passages to bring black market goods into the city. But they’ve been abandoned for a long time because they’re not safe.”

Another truck rolls by overhead, shaking loose a chunk of mortar, which splashes into the water in front of me. No kidding.

Giselle takes a number of turns, and I soon lose track of where we’re going as we head deeper into the tunnel network. A person could easily get lost in here. It’s eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the world above us. The city is in pandemonium. People are running; there’s screaming and the occasional pop of gunfire. It’s like the siege on Black City all over again.

I glance over my shoulder at Natalie to make sure she’s okay. She looks utterly exhausted, her feet dragging through the puddles, her skin glistening with sweat despite the cool air. I worry she’s coming down with something, but then remember she’s been drinking all night, not to mention running from Garrick. No wonder she’s tired. She’s leaning heavily against Elijah, who’s got his arm looped around her waist. My fangs throb. He notices me looking and drops his arm.

Giselle turns down a tunnel to our right. This one is much smaller and is on a slight incline; I have to stoop to prevent my head from hitting the arched ceiling. We follow this passageway for a few hundred yards. The farther we go, the quieter the city above us becomes, until eventually, there’s complete silence. We reach a flight of stairs and exit through an abandoned service hut, which leads into the Rainbow Forest.

Even in the moonlight, it’s immediately apparent how the woodland earned its name. The forest is densely populated with eucalyptus trees, whose bark is a patchwork of bright colors: lime green, sunset orange, purple amethyst, sea blue, maroon. Scattered between them are a few sap-green conifers and Carrow trees, with their famous star-shaped amber leaves.

I turn around to get a better look at the city below us. We’re on a hill, so from this vantage point, I can see across most of Thrace. Thousands of people run through the streets as a steady stream of Transporters brings more troops down to secure the city. Every few seconds there’s the rat-a-tat-tat of machine gun fire. It’s utter bedlam, and somewhere in the middle of it all is the Moon Star. A crushing weight presses down on my shoulders, knowing the mission’s over. There’s nothing for us to do now but get the hell out of Thrace.

30.

ASH

WE WALK DEEPER into the forest, putting Thrace as far behind us as possible. Natalie glances at me, her expression reflecting my own disappointment. How can we possibly bring down Purian Rose, when we’re so outnumbered and outgunned? Elijah walks next to her, his head bowed, no doubt thinking about his mom. Natalie places a consoling hand on his arm. It’s such an innocent touch, and yet it rips my heart in two.

“Why is Rose doing this to us?” Giselle says beside me.

“I don’t know,” I say, tearing my eyes away from Natalie and Elijah. “I think he’s afraid of anything that’s not like him.”

“So his solution is to kill us all?” Giselle says. “What could have frightened him so much that he has to resort to this?” She gestures toward the Destroyer Ships in the night sky.

“I have no idea,” I reply. “It’s impossible to understand what goes on in his mind.”

“I won’t let them take Lucas or any of the children to the Tenth,” Giselle says. “I’d rather slit their throats than allow them to be sold as slaves or gassed like vermin.”

The violence of her thoughts knocks me back. Giselle stops and turns to me, her gray eyes blazing.

“I want to start my own rebellion here in Thrace,” she says. “Will you help me?”

I consider her proposal. I may have failed to locate the Ora, but I can still help the rebellion. I have to do something. What’s the point of being Phoenix if I don’t stand up to the Sentry and fight?

“All right,” I say. “I’m in.”

We continue our hike through the forest for the next hour. Giselle and I chat quietly about our plans to start an uprising, while Natalie and Elijah hang toward the back of the group, deep in their own private conversation.

I start to understand what Madame Clara meant about no one finding us in the forest. It seems to go on for eternity, and all the pathways look the same. You could easily lose your way. Giselle stops at one of the trees and traces her fingers down the colorful bark, finding a small circle carved into the wood.

“They’re at the Circle Glade,” she says.

Giselle leads us up a steep incline, and my muscles groan with the effort. I don’t know how Madame Clara’s managing it. I peer over my shoulder at the old lady, who is holding hands with Lucas and chuckling at one of his jokes. The other children race around her, their fear gone now that we’re in the woods.

“What happened to her eyes?” I ask Giselle.

“Neptune cut them out.”

I stop dead in my tracks. “What? Why?”

“Madame Clara fell in love with a woman, and Neptune didn’t take it well,” Giselle says.

“Fragging hell,” I mutter, wondering if it’s the best idea to seek refuge with this violent man.

“I don’t want you to think badly of our people because of what he did,” she adds quickly. “We’re not all like Neptune, and this was thirty years ago. Attitudes have changed.”

We mercifully reach the top of the hill. Up here the forest flattens out, but the vegetation is denser, making progress slow-going. Wild animals call out to each other in the dark as we trudge through the bracken.

“How many Dacians live with Neptune?” I ask.

“Only a few hundred,” Giselle says. “Everyone else lives in the city, because that’s where the work is. But representatives from each of the five clans have stayed with him.”

“Which clan do you belong to?” I ask.

“Lambert, technically,” Giselle says. “But I just think of myself as Clara’s kid.” We carry on trekking through the woodland.

“So, are your parents . . . um . . .” I don’t know how to put this delicately.

“Dead?” she asks. “Yeah.”

“How come your other family didn’t take you in after they died?”

“They didn’t want me,” she says. “My dad was a Dacian, but my mom wasn’t, and neither family approved of the match, so I was shunned. There wasn’t anywhere for me to go, so I was on the streets for a while, until I met Clara.”

“It sounds tough.”

“I can handle myself,” she says, subconsciously touching the bruise on her cheek, where the guard hit her. “Ah! Here we are.”

We step into a large, circular clearing in the heart of the forest. Parked around the outer edges of the glade are dozens of traditional Dacian caravans, painted in reds, golds and greens, while directly to our right are five large tents. In the center of the glade is a fire pit filled with glowing red embers. A metal sheet is suspended a few feet over it, to prevent the fire from being visible from above at night.

Congregated around the fire pit are over a hundred Dacian men and women. A few of the people have bags by their feet, and I’m assuming they came from the city looking for refuge. They’re in the middle of a heated discussion.

Sitting at the far end of the fire pit, listening to everyone argue, are five men and two women. One of the women looks similar to Giselle, with flowing auburn hair and gray eyes, except she’s considerably older.

Giselle notices me looking. “That’s Pandora Lambert. She’s one of the five clan elders. The blond woman next to her is Miranda Hicks.”

Miranda is in her midforties and painfully gaunt, with heavy Cinderstone powder drawn around her eyes.

“Who are the men?” I say.

“The guy in the glasses is Sol Becket, and beside him is Gilderoy Draper.” The latter has wavy black hair and bright blue eyes, like Lucas. “The man in the middle is Neptune Jack.”

Neptune’s in his midsixties, stocky, with swarthy skin and a thick gray beard that matches his curly hair. Like Giselle, he has feathers and beads woven into his hair. The way he holds himself, with a quiet, confident power, makes it clear he’s in charge.

Everyone stops talking as we approach him. Several of the men draw their daggers, but Neptune signals for them to hold back as Giselle, Lucas and the other children kneel before him, bowing so low, their noses touch the moist earth. Only Madame Clara stays standing out of their group, her chin lifted defiantly.

“You have some nerve bringing your litter of runts here, Clara,” Neptune says.

“We seek refuge,” she says. “Will you accept us, brother?”

Brother? I look at Neptune and realize there are similarities in their faces—they have the same wide nose, broad cheekbones and dark complexion, although Madame Clara’s face is covered in tattoos and slightly disfigured from the scars over her eye sockets.

Neptune scratches his beard as he ponders her request. His gaze lingers on Elijah and Natalie before fixing on me. He sits up straighter.

“We’d heard you were dead,” he says.

“Yeah, I heard that too,” I reply. “But here I am, and I want to help.”

Giselle lifts her head slightly, her auburn hair fanning around her shoulders. “We intend to stage an uprising in Thrace.”

Natalie gives me a questioning look.

“When were you going to tell me about this?” she says under her breath.

“I’m telling you now,” I reply.

Neptune stands up and waves his hand. “Follow me.”

Giselle gets up and joins me, Natalie and Elijah as we follow him and the clan elders into a large tent while Madame Clara stays outside with the children. Inside, the tent has been draped with deep red and purple fabrics. In the middle of the tent is a fire pit with a circular bench covered in silken cushions surrounding it. Neptune gestures for everyone to take a seat on the bench while he sparks up a pipe.

“So you want to take on Rose, eh?” Neptune says.

“They’ve already started rounding us up,” Giselle says. “It’s only a matter of time before we’re all captured and taken to the Tenth.”

I explain what the Tenth is, and Neptune’s eyes darken with fury. The other clan elders pass angry looks between each other, equally outraged as their leader.

“How can we help?” he says.

I tell him the plan Giselle and I formulated while we were walking through the forest.

“What about the Destroyer Ships?” the red-haired woman, Pandora, says.

“We’ll have to infiltrate them,” I say.

“Once our people are inside, they can rescue the prisoners, then set bombs throughout the ships and take the Transporters out of there,” Giselle adds.

“I’ve been on a Destroyer Ship,” Natalie says. “There’s not much security on them, beyond the hangar. It can work.”

I give her a grateful smile, thankful she’s on board.

“The Sentry could just send in more reinforcements via the roads,” the gaunt woman, Miranda, says.

“Then we’ll blow them up too,” Gilderoy Draper replies.

“I don’t think Purian Rose will send any reinforcements. He can’t spare the men after the massacre at Iridium,” I say, referring to the battle that killed Nick and possibly Juno. “The fact that he’s sent only five Destroyer Ships here confirms that—in Black City there were a dozen.”

“Plus Thrace isn’t of military importance,” Natalie chimes in. “He can’t risk exposing his strategically important targets.”

“We’ll have to take control of the news station,” the man in the glasses, Sol Becket, says.

“My cousin works there,” Pandora says. “He’ll get me in.”

Neptune sucks on his pipe, considering. He gazes at the other clan elders, and they each nod in turn.

“It’s madness, but it might just work,” he finally says. “We’ll begin preparations at dawn.”

31.

ASH

I ROLL OVER in the bed and wipe a hand over my face, trying to rub the sleep away. The light coming through the window shutters suggests it’s just after sunrise. I gaze around the room, confused for a moment where I am, then remember I’m in one of the Dacian caravans. It’s a long, thin wagon with a curved wooden roof painted scarlet and emerald green, and tie-dyed fabrics draped over all the surfaces.

The other side of the bed is empty, the pillow cool. I pull on my clothes and go outside in search of Natalie. The glade is already brimming with life as the clan elders prepare for tomorrow’s attack on the Sentry. Sol is by the fire pit with several of his men, cleaning a pile of rifles and swords by their feet and loading the guns with ammo, while Gilderoy and Miranda laugh and chat with each other as they shoot glass bottles off a fallen log, their aim deadly accurate. I can’t see Pandora, so I assume she’s already gone into Thrace to infiltrate the news station. I hope she succeeds, as it’s an important part of the plan.

Natalie, Elijah and Madame Clara are sitting on the steps of a nearby caravan, drinking cups of tea. Natalie looks tired and pale, and I don’t think it’s just from a hangover. It’s more like a weariness that’s enveloped her whole body. I’m stunned by how skinny she’s looking. I didn’t notice it yesterday, when we were in the bedroom at Madame Clara’s, but my mind was on other things at the time.

Giselle steps out of the green caravan next to me, wearing the same bright yellow dress as yesterday, although today she’s got some peacock feathers woven into her auburn hair. They shimmer turquoise in the sunlight, matching the makeup lining her startling eyes. Her smiling lips are painted gold, and her cheeks flush slightly when she sees me. She hasn’t made any attempt to hide her attraction toward me, and you know what? I like it. It’s nice to feel wanted by somebody, even if it isn’t the girl I love.




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