The Sowing

That’s when the chanting begins, low at first, then gaining in strength and momentum until it roars like a hurricane.

“CASSIUS! CASSIUS! CASSIUS!”

He’s holding up his hands now, a grin spread across his face, his eyes burning with triumph.

And that’s the moment when I know he’s won. He’s successfully pitted the Establishment against Sanctum and established himself as supreme authority, only having to sit back and pull the strings as everyone he’s manipulated wages his personal war. Every Imposer will be on his side now, carrying out his every order. This time not out of fear of reprisals against their loved ones, but bloodthirsty vengeance against those who’ve wronged them.

Random shots of the crowd fill me with dread. These citizens who have been oppressed, living in squalor and fear, seem to be embracing him, forgetting what they’ve been through, willing to trust a new order cut from the same cloth as its malignant predecessor, clinging to a false hope that even now is binding them in the links of heavier chains. They’re turning against the resistance, the only true chance they have at getting a decent life.

Everything’s lost.

Unless I stop Cassius now—finish what I started in Town Square on Ascension Day—before the seeds he’s so carefully sown have a chance to grow and mature into a poisonous harvest that’s more terrible than everything that’s come before.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” an all-too-familiar voice says behind me.

My hand grips the flare gun still hidden in my pocket and I spin to face Cassius.

The broadcast was on a time delay. He’s been waiting for me to come to him. Always one step ahead of me, from the beginning.

And I played right into his hands.

He looks calm and appears to be unarmed, which somehow makes me even more ill at ease.

“Congratulations,” I finally say. “Beautifully played.” I try to remain composed, even though I’m boiling over with hatred. My sweaty fingers brush against the flare gun, my eyes focused on Cassius’s chest.

All I need is one shot, right in his heart, and this madness will be over before it has a chance to unravel.

I pull out the gun and aim it at him. “You used me from the beginning. Baiting me by recording that footage of Digory taken alive. Manipulating things so I’d end up at Infiernos. And when Digory and I crashed in the ancient city, you seized the opportunity to get us to Sanctum. You let us find our way into that cryo chamber so we could leak intel about what was going on to the resistance. You didn’t have to get your hands dirty while everyone else did your work for you. You’ve betrayed Talon and Straton. All so that you could be the Parish’s savior.”

Cassius shakes his head as if he’s pitying me. He makes no move to defend himself. “No need for violence, Lucky. Yes, I’ve sown the seeds. But it was your skill, your drive, that was the impetus I didn’t have complete control over. Despite what you’re thinking, I still—you still mean a great deal to me. Why else do you think I had Valerian destroy the forensic evidence that tied you to the attack on the Pleasure Emporiums? And don’t you recall how I intervened at Infiernos when you were about to face the Culling? Or once again at Sanctum, when Straton wanted to cut open your brain? There’s always a place for you in the new regime—if you want it. Once again, you have a choice.”

“I choose to kill you before your squad of Imps arrives and kills me.” My finger applies pressure to the trigger.

Cassius shakes his head. “Who needs Imposers when I have something better?”

I’m just about to pull the trigger and end this for good when movement catches my eye. I whip the gun in that direction as a figure emerges from the shadows.

It’s Cole.

He looks thinner than the last time I saw him, on the podium in Town Square. His eyes are swollen, either from tears or lack of sleep. But he’s alive. My heart leaps. The arm holding the gun drops to my side.

“Cole. You’re okay.”

I drop to my knees as he comes running into my arms. I squeeze him tight, then pull away, cupping his face in my palms. “Did they hurt you?”

He shakes his head.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come for you when I said I would,” I whisper, “but I’m going to get you out of here now.”

His eyes light up and he hugs me tight, pressing his face against my chest.

Just as I’m about to lift him into my arms, something sharp jabs into my side. It’s like a million shards of glass piercing my flesh. I can’t breathe… everything goes hazy…

Cole tears away from me, the cold steel of a knife blade glinting in his eyes. I stare at the weapon and it takes me a moment to register that the dark liquid dripping from it and spattering on the white marble is my own blood.