The Sun Dwellers (25 page)

And there it is. The compromise. If Tristan can’t be there to protect me (as if
I
need protecting), he wants the next best fighter to be with me. Which leaves him with Roc, who, although determined and loyal to a fault, is no warrior, as Tristan already pointed out. But wait a minute…

“I thought you said you and Roc have to be separated, so each squad has someone to help navigate through the palace,” I say.

“That’s correct,” Tristan confirms. Then that means…

“You’re going with Tawni?”

“That’s what I’m suggesting.”

I shake my head in wonder at the nerve of my boyfriend. If he thinks he can get away with the exact same thing that I just tried to get away with, he’s got another thing coming. “Not a chance. If that’s the way you want to play it, I’m going with Roc. You take Trevor and Tawni.”

“Perfect. Done,” Trevor says, clapping his hands together. “I’m ready.”

“Wait a sec,” Tristan says. “I disag—”

“All in favor,” I say, cutting him off.

“Aye,” Tawni and Trevor say in unison.

Roc shrugs. “Sorry, buddy, that’s three votes already. It’s probably for the best anyway.”

Tristan’s shaking his head, his eyes closed. I can tell his teeth are clamped tightly together beneath his pursed lips. He’s worried about me, which I feel bad about, but I know we’ve made the right decision. He and Tawni will be safe with Trevor, and Roc and I can look after each other. I know I was a bit cold to him, but
that
I can make up for.

I move in close, hug him around the chest, rest my cheek on his shoulder. “We’ll be fine,” I whisper.

He opens his fathomless blue eyes. Says, “I don’t want to lose you.” I lean into his honest lips, kissing him longer and deeper than I ever have before.

“You won’t,” I murmur when we pull away.

Tristan

T
hat didn’t go the way I planned. I thought I could convince Adele to go with me, or at least to go with Trevor. Instead she’s the only real fighter in her group, while I’ve got Trevor, who’s more than capable.

We’ve worked out the details of our plan—approximately how long it will take for each team to reach the throne room (twenty minutes), what to do if something goes wrong (keep going), whether to wait for the other team upon arrival at the throne room (wait five minutes, and then go in)—and I watch Adele climb the ladder first, her lithe form almost catlike in her sun dweller clothes. Everything about her is an enigma to me. The way she can be so tough and yet so gentle. The beauty she wears like a mask on her determined face. Her humble upbringing seeding a life destined to do such great things.

And now we’re parting without saying goodbye, with only a kiss to keep us going, because that’s the way she wants it. It’s probably better that way. Saying goodbye is like assuming failure, like we won’t see each other again. “Until we meet again!” I say instead. Adele fires a strange look down the ladder and keeps climbing.

“We’ll go through the gardens and around the government buildings,” Roc says.

I look at him. “Too dangerous. We’ll go that way and you take the
safer
route through the family quarters.”

“She’ll want to see the gardens,” Roc says.

“This isn’t a sightseeing trip, Roc. This is not debatable.”

“We’ll go through the gardens,” Adele cries from above.

I grit my teeth. It’s like the entire world has teamed up against me. Or maybe it’s just the four people I’m supposed to be teamed up with. With Adele three quarters of the way up the ladder, there’s no time to argue. “Fine,” I growl. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“So don’t do anything you would do then?” Roc says with a smirk.

“Just go,” I say, unwilling to take the bait.

Trevor’s shadow boxing the wall, while Tawni’s waiting for me patiently. Roc gives her a soft kiss on the cheek before following Adele.

“Shall we?” Tawni says, turning her head to hide the pink on her face.

“Let’s give them a minute to start their move. The fewer of us together to draw attention the better,” I say.

I sit down, close my eyes, take a few deep breaths. My mouth is dry, like it’s been coated in a layer of rock dust, my tongue as limp as a wet rag. Although I’m at rest, my heart beats faster than it should.

Tawni slides in beside me. “You’re worried about her,” she says.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Your foot’s moving a mile a minute,” she says, pointing to my leg. I didn’t even realize, but she’s right. My knee’s twitching up and down rapidly, my foot tapping out a wild beat on the concrete.

I put a hand on my leg, calming it. Even my body is out of my control. “Urrrr!” I growl, just as there’s the clink of the manhole cover being replaced above us. “I just didn’t picture our attack on the capital like this,” I say.

Trevor stands over me. “How did you picture it? You and Adele, holding hands, skipping through the palace gardens? Fighting hordes of guards—still holding hands, mind you—storming the throne room, each plunging a sword through your father’s chest in perfect synchronization?”

I glance up, frown at Trevor. “No, of course not. I just thought we’d fight together.”

“Ignore him,” Tawni says, bringing my gaze to hers. “You
will
fight together. And then you can skip through the gardens all you want.” Even in the sewer, her pale blue eyes are mirthful and wise. I can see why Adele is so close with her. I find myself smiling. “Did you really want to go with her to fight with her, or was it perhaps so you could keep an eye on her?”

“Yes—I mean, no—I mean, I don’t know, maybe. I just feel more comfortable when she’s near so I can help if she needs it.” My head is a muddle of thoughts, worries, and memories. All I know is she’s up there, and I’m down here.

“News flash. She doesn’t need your help. She doesn’t need anyone’s help. She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met.” Tawni’s expression is so serious I can tell she means what she says. But she’s wrong.

“She told me she needed your help. She told me she never would have escaped the Pen, never would have rescued her sister, never would have done any of the incredible things she’s done without you.”

“What? She said that?”

“Yes, Tawni. She thinks the world of you, and believe it or not, she needs you as much as you need her. We all need each other. Together is the only way we’re going to get through this. Together.”

Tawni’s eyebrows are raised and she’s staring off into space. “I never knew,” she says.

“Well now you do. You have a part to play in this as much as anyone else.” I don’t know if that’s right exactly, but the words feel right on my tongue, coming off my lips. In any case, Tawni will have to fight, just like the rest of us, before this is all over. That’s a certainty.

“I’ll do what I can,” she says, standing, her dress swirling around her legs and looking incredibly out of place amongst the sewer water and time-darkened concrete.

“Ugh. If this love fest is over, can we go?” Trevor says, stepping on my foot.

“Ladies first,” I say, motioning for him to climb the ladder in front.

As it turns out, the sewer ended just inside the palace gardens, directly below a flower patch. At first I wonder who the idiot engineer is who designed it that way, but then I realize it was probably my father’s idea. He always liked building secret passages, hidden rooms, and alternate escape routes from the palace. This is probably meant to be one of those, not that he ever intended to need it. Little did he know it would be used against him.

After replacing the flower-spotted manhole cover and patting the dirt around it to hide our presence, we slide along the inside of the wall, me in front with Tawni close behind. Trevor guards the rear. The few times I glance back, Tawni’s mouth is opened wide like an O, her eyes nearly as round, and her expression one of barely contained delight. Evidently she likes the gardens, and seeing her enjoying her first time in them makes me wish I could’ve seen Adele’s reaction. I know, I know, in my own words,
This isn’t a sightseeing trip,
but still, it would’ve been nice to see.

Decades-old trees spring up to our left, the artificial stars winking between the crisscross of their muddled boughs; brilliantly colored flower arrangements dance in the artificial moonlight, an optimal illusion provided by the shadows and night sky; skillfully cut statues of men on horses—past Nailin presidents—and men with swords—again, past Nailin presidents—dot the landscape. Unfortunately for Tawni, we’re only looping around the edge of the gardens to reach the residential wing, whereas the others are going right through it.

When we reach a corner of the high, white palace walls, we turn north, making our way along the final third of the gardens. Abruptly the shade of the trees ends, and we’re thrust back into the fullness of the world my father has created. The deep blue night sky, an effect of specially designed panel lights on the cavern roof, looms over us, big and magical and beautiful, even to me, who’s seen it a thousand times.

“Is it like this every night?” Tawni whispers.

“My father wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say, watching my companions take it all in. Even Trevor looks impressed by it all.

“Well, at least he did something right,” Trevor says.

I never thought about it like that. I guess I’ve only seen the President’s power be used for evil, so I’ve never really considered all the good that could be done if the power was given to someone who wanted it for the right reasons.

Shaking off the thought, I lead the way across a wide expanse of grass that covers the area from the wall to the house that I grew up in. It’s not really a house, just an extension on the massive, mansion-like presidential buildings, what I like to refer to as
the palace
. A warm, soft haze of orange light spills from the three stories of living space windows, and if the building wasn’t so big, it would almost look inviting and homey. The spires of the main buildings rise above us like white spikes, casting away any doubt that this is an ordinary place to live.

“Where are all the guards?” Tawni asks, her eyes following the purely architectural spires to the cavern roof.

“They’ll be focused on the entrance to the party, more toward the government side.” Our eyes meet and she frowns, her expression saying what I left unsaid:
where the others are going.
“But we still have to be careful. There will be guards here, too, and they’ll be roaming the house randomly. Keep alert.”

This is happening. This is real.
Those two thoughts hit me as we edge along the side of the place I grew up, a place of laughter and fear, where one half of my upbringing gave me hope and love, and the other half gave me bruises and twisted ideals. I’m about to see my father again, and then I have to kill him.

This is happening. This is real.

Well, that gets the adrenaline pumping. It’s like I’ve just taken a shot of caffeine, my senses on high alert, my muscles energetic, my eyes seeing everything.

We reach a corner. I know that one of the back entrances cuts through the wall perpendicular to us. Our first real danger. The door might be guarded, or might not. My father likes to mix things up with his security, more for his amusement than anything else. I poke an eye to the side, catch a glimpse of a red-garbed guard, duck back. In the split second of vision, his black double-holstered belt stares at me like two black demon eyes.

But we have weapons, too. And the guard will be bored, wishing he was going to be attending the upcoming party inside, giving us the invaluable element of surprise.

“There’s a guard,” I hiss at the others.

“Want me to take him out?” Trevor says, making me think it
is
better that he’s with me and not Adele.

“No. Thanks. All guards are instructed to first raise the alarm if they spot an intruder. Apprehending the intruder is secondary. We have to ensure he doesn’t have a chance to do that. Any ideas?” I ask.

“I’ll scale the building, and while you rush him from the side, I’ll drop on him from above,” Trevor says. “Simple and clean.”

“Simple? Sounds like a disaster.”

“You got a better idea?” Trevor says.

“I’ve got about ten better ideas. Like I could toss something out onto the lawn and when he goes to check it out, we jump him. Or I could make a little noise to draw him over and then we club him in the head.”

“There’s still a good chance he’ll alert other guards before he goes to check,” Tawni says, tapping her teeth with her fingers. “What about this? I provide the distraction.”

“With what?” Trevor asks.

“With me,” she says.

“Bad idea,” I say, right away thinking about what Adele would say if she knew we were using Tawni as bait.
What were you thinking, Tristan?!

“You were the one who said I have a role to play in all this,” Tawni points out. Why do I always open my big mouth?

“You do, but not like this.”

“She’s got a point,” Trevor says. “She’s the only one who might just look like a normal sun dweller partygoer. If they see you, they’ll freak out, because you’re supposed to be locked in your room with a mild case of mental trauma. I look as much like a sun dweller as a hunk of coal looks like a diamond. That leaves Tawni.”