Page 35 of The Order: Rise of the New Empire (Order #4)

Chapter thirty-four

Rowan

T his part of the world always made me question what humanity could have looked like before the wars.

Was there really such thing as no divide?

Bumping shoulders with Elias, we creep along the perimeter of the Precipice.

"Fallan has it?" Elias whispers.

"The blade? Yeah, he has it."

When I was spending some time creeping into his mind, I heard the thought no one would want to hear.

Forest asked him to kill her once they safely removed the child from her uterus. Forest knows Elyon does not have clarity on her pregnancy and, as a result, will react to seeing her bleed from the procedure. That is her one and only chance to ensure the blade pierces both of their hearts.

Or, at least, that is the assumption I have drawn.

Being able to linger in the minds of those around me has always been a gift I both dread and love.

Sometimes, it's entertaining, other times, it leaves me wondering why humanity deserves a second chance.

"So, if we are successful and the Prophet and Forest are gone, what does that mean for the Marked?"

How much curiosity can one person have?

I need to stay focused.

The minute all hell breaks loose, I have to find Forest.

I have to find a way to lure her back to the cabin and give her what she needs.

Everyone else thought I was bringing her back as a hostage, but I know she will do nothing unless that child is free from her womb.

I sensed it long ago. Back when she and Xavier were in New Haven.

She thought she was in my mind, but I was buried in hers, already aware of her crazy plan.

Perhaps if I had the courage to come face to face with the Shifter running the Underground, I could have let him in on her little plan.

For some reason, every time I am within the vicinity of Mason, it feels suffocating.

I know he was looking for me, trying to find clarity as to how I have done half of the things I have.

But something about him tells me to run for the hills anytime he is near me.

"That's it. No more Marked. Forest was the last person capable of creating our kind. Conception and blood are the only way, and without Forest or Elyon, we will become a dying breed."

"So, that sort of makes me and you the last of our kind? There's not many Marked back in the Underground that are our age."

"Once our kind dies out, no more blood. No more ways to stay youthful."

"Aging normally?” Elias jokes. "At what point did that become an odd concept?"

Staying silent, I keep walking.

"Have you tried blood?" he asks after a few moments of silence.

Great. Questions.

"That's how Elyon kept me in the condition he wanted," I whisper. "Never enough to stall my aging, but just enough to make me a weapon he could use at any point."

Kicking rocks as he walks, Elias stares forward.

"Was it lonely in confinement?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I keep on a cold front.

"Let's just say, it's nothing I'd want to experience again."

Screams tear out through the air, forcing us both away from this prodding conversation. Whipping our heads toward the main strip of the Precipice, we both become rigid with adrenaline.

"I thought they were supposed to give you a sign," Elias exclaims.

"I think that is our warning," I hiss. "Time to move."

Narrowly avoiding a Shifter mistakenly swiping at me, Elias slips on the blood pouring from the ripped neck of an Official gasping for air.

Trying to make sense of all that is happening around me, my eyes catch a glimpse of Xavier's gray hair as he wrestles with one of our own in a cloak.

"Rowan!" Silas yells. "Watch ou-"

Winnowing before he can finish his statement, the sound of a blade clattering with the concrete wall behind me throws all of my senses into hyperdrive. Snapping my head toward the Official who shamelessly tried to decapitate me, my hand is raised and twisted, breaking his neck clean, rotating it in the other direction.

Staring in horror, Elias hides his vomit.

Great. The perfect person to bring to a fight.

Now, if I can just find Forest-

"There you are, you little bitch," his vile voice hisses.

Glaring at me, Atticus cocks his head at me with disdain. Wearing the deep scar I gave him, a smile toys with my lips.

"Elias, find Forest," I whisper.

Slowly backing away, Atticus narrows his eyes at Elias.

Cracking my head to the side, Atticus stumbles to the ground, easily submitting to the whim of my Hold.

Useless poster child.

Giving Elias the opportunity to slip away, Atticus brushes his suit as he stands.

"I was wondering when you would finally show up."

"It really is so embarrassing, Atticus," I smile. "So much hatred for a child who was able to kick your pathetic ass. Tell me, what did it feel like knowing that someone half your age could make you weep like a baby?"

Pushing him to the point of snapping, his eyes darken with rage.

There we go.

Surging toward me, the blade he had hidden in his waistband finds its way toward me. Barely slicing the skin of my forearm, I roll to the ground, grabbing my own blade from the side of my thigh. Slicing it clean across the front of his leg, he lets out a yelp. Kicking me in my side a millisecond later, I grunt.

Taking a sharp breath, I Winnow a few feet away from him, both of us cut by one another.

"Shouldn't you be focused on going after someone a bit closer to your age?" I snap.

"No one else my age has pissed me off as much as you have. I'm going to have fun slitting your damn throat."

Fighting words?

I might as well make him regret it.

Tossing my blade aside, the energy within me surges through my body. Starting at my feet and ending at my fingertips, years of abuse at the hands of Elyon add kindling to the fire burning within me.

The war has begun and I'm going to make damn sure I am left standing.

Slamming my hand into the ground, the Earth cracks open, forcing Atticus to step aside. Taking down a few other Officials and followers in cloaks in the process, the gaping hole provides an easy fix for tossing bodies aside.

"Nice parlor trick," Atticus hisses. "My turn?"

Winnowing away from my line of sight, I turn around, startled to see more than one of him.

Circling me like vultures, his three figures swarm me like wild animals. Bouncing back and forth, his laugh clouds my mind.

"You think you're the only one who has a good grasp of their Call?" he spits. "By the time you figure out which one of me is real..."

Closing my eyes, I tune him out.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Thump, Thump, Thump

One strong heartbeat.

Reaching my hand out toward the figure with a heartbeat, Atticus gasps. Blocking him from my mind, I use his disorientation, shoving him as hard into the concrete wall closest to us as I can. Forcing him into the wall with enough force to keep him down, I slide my hand to my other thigh, grabbing the dagger free from its sheath.

"I should kill you," I whisper. "But I'd rather make you suffer again."

Shoving the knife into his stomach as hard as I can, I pin him into the wall, smiling once he lets out a scream.

"Y-You fucking bitch-"

"Goodbye, Atticus."

Backing away, a glimpse of gray overlooking the fight catches my attention.

Standing on top of one of the buildings, she crouches down, cocking her head in observance. Too focused on watching her brother and Xavier to notice me, I mentally path the best way to get to her without anyone noticing.

Winnowing away from Atticus's line of sight, I find myself behind the buildings. Grabbing the ladder of the building she stands on, my heart races.

This could end one of two ways.

I could be right about my theory and help her get what she needs.

Or.

She kills me.

Taking a deep breath, my feet move for me.

Maybe there are some things more important than living.