Page 90 of Between Smoke and Shadow
“Five,” the Architect calls.
“What do we do?” she asks, the words almost impossible to make out.
“Four.”
“Kneel,” I tell her. Before she can protest, I roughly shove her to the ground. Dae’s exposed eyes meet mine. He’s somehow more terrifying without his mask, his features so much sharper than I remembered. His jaw is clenched as his gaze flickers between me and my sister, and it is only then that I realize I’m not the only one here he’s protecting.
“Three,” the Architect says.
Behind Dae, almost the entire courtyard—masked and not—kneel before my father. He is so much weaker than they realize. His magic could infiltrate half our minds at once, but the rest of us could kill him if we struck at the same time.
“Two.”
We’re too divided. It’s too late. We’ve already lost.
“Kneel,” I snap at Dae. Then, louder, to the remaining soldiers, “Everyone, kneel! That’s an order!”
The remaining guards do as I say, kneeling with their heads bowed. Once Dae is on his knees, he adjusts, placing his head against the top of Tora’s.
“One,” the Architect says.
With everyone knelt between us, I have a clear shot at my father. His suit is not red in color alone. Splatters of blood cover his clothing, but it’s clear he’s only just arrived to the fight. He moves his head slowly, as if surveying the dozens of guards between us. His magic collects at his palms, and I already know he’s going to kill them. All my unmasked men, whether they’re bowed or not, have made an unforgivable statement.
“Don’t,” I say. My voice is a sharp crack through the slanted rain. “They’ve kneeled.”
“They have,” he agrees. He steps between the guards, leisurely working his way toward me. “And yet, you have not.”
I’m the only one strong enough to open the Architect’s portal—especially with Malek dead—but I’m not sure he cares in this moment. His magic pulses, until there’s a swirling mass at either hand. I can feel his attention on mine too. It’s brighter than his, but less contained. I have too much of Malek’s magic mixed with mine, and it’s making everything sloppy. Still, I don’t dare release it. If I’m going to kill my father, I’ll need every drop I have.
“I will not kneel,” I say. “But Iwilloffer a trade.”
“Is that right?” the Architect asks. He chuckles, head tilting not in confusion but amusement. “You think you’ve something to offer?”
“Yes,” I say. My voice rasps as I lift it, making sure all can hear. “You cannot escape Savoa without me. If you leave everyone alive, I will do it. I will open that portal, even if it fucking kills me.”
The Architect halts. He stands halfway between me and the Tower, and I wish now, more than ever, I could see his face. He is utterly motionless, but whether he’s debating my offer or readying for the kill, I have no idea.
“You cannot do it without me,” I repeat. “I’ve killed Malek. Tora and Mother aren’t strong enough.No oneis strong enough. But let them live, and I will do it.”
The Architect begins walking again. His steps are as slow, as unconcerned as before, and yet I notice the way his magic pulses. The guards around us might not know what I’m talking about, but I’m giving them enough to wonder, to question whether this man truly has their best interests in mind.
“You think you’re irreplaceable?” he asks. A few more strides, and he’s here, standing on the other side of Dae. He presses against my guard, as if he’s nothing more than an inanimate barrier between us. “You think I can’t fuck another woman? Make myself another set of heirs? It will be easy to replace you, and I’ve got nothing but time.”
I step away from Tora and Dae, carefully leading my father a few steps to the left. He pays them no attention, shadowing my movements until we’re close enough I could lunge for his throat. I don’t. The Architect is not Malek. He’ll kill me before I leave a bruise.
“You’re dying,” I say. I spit the words like they’re poison, like they might kill him faster, and I make sure everyone can hear me. “You need my helpnow, and if you want it?—”
“I don’twantit,” he interrupts. “Ihaveit. I own you, child. You are mine, and you are here to serve me.”
I don’t respond. My chest heaves, my magic burning hotter with each passing second. I need to strike, but I already know I’ll lose. He’ll see any attack coming. He’ll block it before it lands.
“I won’t,” I say. I lower my voice. “So if you ever want to leave this wretched place, you’ll take the deal.”
The laugh that leaves him now is different from the first. It’s ragged and spiteful, and it’s clear he’s tired of this conversation.
“All right, Harrick. You’ve made your point,” he says. He steps away from me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to agree. “How about I offer a deal of my own? You stop acting like a petulant child, and I promise to let your whore live. You get on your fucking knees, right now, and I won’t murder her, like you did your brother.”
Everything inside me goes cold. My mouth opens but nothing, not even breath, comes out. A flicker of movement catches my attention, and then I see her. Framed by two bulky guards, she struggles to keep up as they drag her across the yard. She’s lost her shoes and her hair is a tangled mess around her face. The sleeve of her coverall is torn, and even from here, I can tell she’s crying.
