Page 14 of The Infinite Glade (The Maze Cutter #3)
CHAPTER SEVEN
Righteous Anger
T he sun was setting, its golden glow spreading across the water.
Minho steered the Maze Cutter away from the coast and out as far away from the city and the eyes of the Remnant Nation as he could.
In less than an hour they’d be under a blanket of darkness and free from the eyes of all enemies, and safe from the war.
These Alaskan mountains, the trees, even the water of the ocean—it was all so different from the flat, barren landscape of the Remnant Nation and its fortress.
He wondered how the Nation of soldiers would find out that their Great Master was dead.
Maybe they’d never know. After all, no one ever saw his face and they were far from the Golden Room of Grief.
“It’s a short trip.” Alexandra startled him from behind. “We’ll get there before dark.” She smiled. Where he’d come from, Minho had rarely seen cheeks raised, teeth gleaming. But he still knew Alexandra’s smile was fake.
He would take every opportunity he had to call the phony Goddess out. “Short trip, huh? It would be even shorter with a Berg.” He spoke each word as if it were a bullet coming out of a gun—rapid, separate shots.
“Would have been a lot better in a Berg,” Dominic chimed in. “A whole lot better.”
“Why are you saying it like that?” Trish walked up. “Like there’s an inside joke or inside secret or something . . .”
“Yeah, what’s your deal with Bergs?” Sadina had joined them on deck.
“Young boys do this, don’t they?” Alexandra flashed her fakest smile yet.
The Orphan almost wanted to laugh. “I’ve taken more lives when I was just a boy than most men .
” He turned to face Alexandra squarely. “Have you ever killed a man, Goddess?” This got Sadina’s and Trish’s attention.
And then Miyoko’s. Soon enough, everyone on the Maze Cutter waited for Alexandra’s answer.
“Out of mercy or out of spite, for any reason?” Minho added.
“Oh.” She feigned surprise for some reason.
Roxy stepped in. “Alright, alright, it’s not a pissing competition.”
The Goddess stood quietly behind Minho, hovering as he moved the controls. Her itchy wool cloak made her presence all the more known. “Can the captain have a little room?” He was used to life in the Remnant Nation, just him at his spot on the wall—alone.
“Actually, maybe I should steer.” She reached for the controls. “You’re favoring the right of the wheel too much, and we’ll?—”
“Don’t.” Minho stopped her hand from touching the wheel and held her wrist in the air.
“Minho!” Trish snapped. “Stop! Don’t hurt her! What’re you doing?”
He could have twisted her weak little limb in a single motion, put her into a headlock position, snapping her neck.
He could have broken any one of the fingers on the hand coming toward him as a gentle warning, her wrist would swell up larger than her lies.
But instead he just threw her wrist down.
His eyes searched for Orange. “I’m favoring the right because the Maze Cutter rudder favors the left . ”
Alexandra straightened out her cloak, but Minho couldn’t leave it at that.
“Are you surprised that even ships have secrets?” He smirked.
“Minho . . .” Trish scolded Minho again. “Don’t be so awkward. We’ve waited all this time to meet the Godhead, and here we are. We’re lucky to?—”
“Okay . . .” Dominic cleared his throat. “Let’s . . . uh . . . give the man some room.”
“Yes . . . here you are.” The Goddess smiled in a way that showed too many teeth, a way Minho imagined the Grief Bearers might smile if they ever did such a thing under their hoods.
“And here we go . . . ” Dominic led the group away from the captain’s wheel.
Roxy handed Minho some water but he wasn’t thirsty. “I’m good.” He steered the boat further right than what it needed to compensate for the rudder pull.
Roxy leaned into him. “Are you good? Because that was quite a back and forth you gave Ms. Godhead. If I didn’t know any better I might say you don’t respect women in power, but I know that’s not it.” She shook her head. “Can’t be right. Right?” She gave him a stern look.
“No, that’s not it.” Minho put her fears to rest. That wasn’t it at all. Some of the toughest soldiers Minho had ever known were women—like Orange. He’d trust Orange with his life if it came down to it. “It’s just that woman” he said under his breath. “I can’t respect her .”
“This lifetime of training to kill the Godhead . . . is this something I have to worry about?” Roxy let her words hang in the air.
“No,” Minho lied. He’d been bred to kill them. Then he’d wanted to join them, discover them from the inside. Now he was right back where he started. What a journey.
“Good. Because these girls are very fond of her.” Roxy looked back at Sadina, Trish, and Miyoko, gathering around the Godhead like she was some sort of magical magnet for their attention.
The City of Gods burned behind them as the sun faded across the water in front.
They sailed farther and farther away from the shore of Alaska.
It might’ve been beautiful to a regular human being.
But Minho barely saw it. He couldn’t stop thinking about the Great Master’s Orphan wound. The turmeric.
He needed to tell someone, get it off his chest.
Orange.
“Careful of these inlets. . . . This boat isn’t built for such a narrow passage.
” Alexandra said as she pointed ahead. As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew what this boat—with the faded lettering on the side that said MAZE CUTTER—was made for.
Deep water trials. The maze trials never ended, they only evolved.
She ran her fingers along the trim of the ship.
She wondered what secrets it held. And what else from history had been hidden from her?
Who else besides Nicholas had been so powerful to orchestrate such plans?
It didn’t matter. She was the one true God now.
And the Evolution would bring back knowledge to all.
The Cure would bring memories back, too.
Alexandra looked at the children and the one they called Roxy at the tail end of the deck.
They ogled at Alaska’s sunset over the mountains beyond the ocean, more than any Pilgrim of the Maze ever did.
It was decided. They would be her new faithful followers, and the two soldiers, her Evolutionary Guard. Whether they wanted to or not.
An unearthly sound arose from the bowels of the ship.
Alexandra held on to the railing as the Maze Cutter ’s bottom scraped Alaskan rocks in the shallow water.
There was a terrible squeal, a crunch. She whipped around to Minho.
“I told you this is too big! Hold steady and move to the middle of the narrows!” She lifted the bottom of her cloak and stomped over to Minho.
Even in the dark, an idiot like Mannus could avoid steering right into sure destruction.
“Do you want to steer?” Minho quipped as he adjusted the boat.
She didn’t care if the ship fell apart getting them to the Villa, they just needed to get there.
Alexandra’s plan was simple: hunker down in the Villa.
Let the war pigs die down. Get all of the destruction and burning out of their system.
The Goddess would focus all of her energy on creating the new while they focused on destroying the old .
“Would have been a much smoother trip on a Berg.” The soldier stared at Alexandra, maybe an attempted threat, but his words were no weapons to a Goddess.
“The Berg?” She shook her head at the stubborn Orphan.
“Your eyes only tell you what they see . And what you see is never the whole truth.” The boat steadied again without trouble.
“When you use the simplest form of your DNA, sight and stubbornness, you’re no better than those at the bottom of the Flare Pits. ”
“My sight is good enough to know that you’re a liar.” He sure liked challenging her, but she wouldn’t be bothered by him. “Impressive . . . to kill the Great Master, though.” He shrugged. “And before you tell me my eyes saw wrong: he was dead . . .” The young man paused. “I went back to check.”
Alexandra didn’t care about the ridiculous title Mikhail gave himself.
Titles in themselves were worthless. And Minho could tell anyone on the ship anything he wanted.
They wouldn’t believe him. She already had control over them.
All of them. She was their one true God.
She’d seen it happen too many times to doubt, although her subjects hadn’t always been quite this easy to manipulate.
“You didn’t know about the Great Master, did you?” Minho caught her off guard. “I imagine the Godhead wouldn’t know about the Greatest Master of the Remnant Nation.”
“Oh, I knew him well.” She shrugged. “That man had many names. All of which were false.” For years, Alexandra’s gut had burned with the belief that Mikhail was undeserving.
“What do you know of him as ‘The Great Master’?” The Goddess would find out what she could of Mikhail’s bastard nation, even as he walked through the Infinite Glade of Death.
“Only the most powerful leader, Head of the Remnant Nation. Above all the Grief Bearers and armies built to destroy the Godhead.” The boy kept his eyes on the waters ahead.
“I’m surprised being as weak as he was, that he influenced such a strong army.” The destruction that Mikhail had rained on her city truly did shock her. Damn Mikhail and his maddened, muddy-mind. “No one saw through him to his weakness?”
“No one saw him at all . . .” Minho turned to her. “The Bearers of Grief never saw his face. Only his cloak in the Golden Room of Grief.”
What an interesting way to command an army. Through hiding, weakness.