Page 25

CHAPTER 25

S asha

The abandoned warehouse looms before us, a hulking shadow against the perpetual twilight of Tartarus’s lower districts. Eirik and I hug the shadows, but in this part of town, no one looks up at us. The few people who wander the streets are hunched over by hunger and despair; they look at the ground like they yearn to rest their weary heads underneath its rocky surface.

The air is thick with the stench of piss and unwashed bodies, vomit and wounds that never heal. A few drunks snore loudly, their bodies sprawled over the beaten dirt. As I flatten my back to the brick wall of the warehouse, I watch a man, thin like a skeleton, walk over the still form of an elderly woman, sleeping under a pile of rags.

These are the streets I grew up in. This is where Sargul first laid eyes on me and took me in. He was the only one who looked and saw the desperate orphan looking up at him. Now that same man wants me dead.

At the thought, my chest pinches and my jaw clenches so hard my teeth hurt. With a resolute exhale, I push the memories down in the dark pit where they belong.

“Your contact is meeting us here?” I ask, eyeing the derelict building.

“Yes.” Eirik’s voice is low as he scans our surroundings. “She’s been my informant since I came to Tartarus. She will be able to help us to stop Lady Ozura and find out whoever else works with her.”

“She?” My fingers brush the hilt of my small blade, drawing comfort from its familiar presence. Years of thieving have taught me to notice when something feels off.

This definitely feels off.

Eirik’s grunt is all the answer he gives me, but his spikes ripple beneath his skin, just poking through the surface. We approach the warehouse’s back entrance cautiously. The massive loading doors hang crooked on rusted tracks, creating a gap just wide enough to slip through. Inside, the air is thick with dust and the musty smell of abandonment.

Mining equipment lies scattered about—ancient conveyor belts, sorting machines, and storage containers covered in years of grime. As we wander deeper into the space, I run my fingers over a large metal crate.

I brush away years of dust to reveal a faded logo. My blood runs cold.

“Eirik,” I call softly. “This was one of Lady Ozura’s warehouses.”

His head snaps toward me, blue eyes narrowing. Before he can respond, movement catches my eye. A familiar silhouette emerges from the shadows, and my heart stops. She steps into a shaft of dim light filtering through the broken ceiling, her striped hair gleaming.

“Maitlin?” My voice comes out as barely more than a whisper. “You’re Eirik’s informant?”

Her feline green eyes fix on me with an expression I’ve never seen before—cold, calculating. The eyes of an enemy.

“You should have left when you had a chance, Sasha.” The words drip with bitter irony. She turns to Eirik, inclining her head. “You too, Eirik. I gave you plenty of warnings.”

The pieces click into place with sickening clarity. Maitlin fell on hard times after she got caught and Sargul put her on ice. I thought her brief stint as Kendall’s girlfriend was a desperate bid to have a man care for her. I should have realized she’s way too clever to rely on a man for anything. She only used the thug to get close to Lady Ozura, to where real power and money is.

She’s a survivor, just like me. But unlike me, she’s ready to sell out her family for money.

“You’ve been working both sides.” The betrayal cuts deeper than any blade. “How long?”

“Long enough.” Maitlin’s face remains impassive, but her eyelid twitches—a tell I recognize from our childhood. She’s conflicted. At least, there’s a silver lining to her betrayal. “Lady Ozura is a generous patron. More than you, Eirik, and certainly better than Dad.”

“I trusted you.” Eirik’s voice rumbles like distant thunder, his spikes elongating along his arms and shoulder. “Gave you money whenever you?—”

“And I gave you valuable intelligence in return,” Maitlin interrupts, her green eyes flashing with anger. She opens her mouth to say more, but a cough racks her frame, the sound wet and painful. She steadies herself against a rusted support beam. “But business is business. Nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal? If you think I’ll let you pretend there’s nothing personal here, you’re out of your damned mind!” I take a step forward, letting the anger and pain of her betrayal get the best of me.

The blaster appears in her hand so fast, I barely see her move. She aims it directly at my chest. My next words die in my throat. I’ve seen Maitlin shoot before. She never misses.

“Don’t.” Her finger curves around the trigger. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

“The Soul Stones and the Huugwor technology can change everything for this city,” I grit between my teeth. I know that I can reach her, make her understand. “Lady Ozura will just keep all this for herself.”

“Yeah. Lady Ozura never pretended otherwise.” Maitlin’s eyes narrow, but I see the way her lips curve down. “Now hand it over, and we can all walk away from this.”

“You don’t understand.” I gesture to the way she leans against the beam, her breathing labored. “With the Huugwor technology, you can get better. Let us help you.”

“Help me?” She barks out a laugh that dissolves into another coughing fit, but her blaster remains aimed straight at my chest. When she straightens, her eyes are harder than before. “Like you helped me by trying to leave? Saving all your money while I struggled to breathe? You didn’t even let me join in any of your heists.”

“That’s not fair?—”

“Life isn’t fair,” she cuts me off. “Lady Ozura offered me a way out and I took it. Real medical care, not just scraping by on humi-breathers and black market meds. I’m going to leave this planet once and for all.”

Her gaze shifts to Eirik. “The Soul Stone. Now.”

I study her face—the face of my sister, my friend, my rival—and see the desperate determination there. She’s not bluffing. Above us, metal creaks in the darkness of the warehouse’s heights.

My eyes catch a glimpse of small red lights blinking along the steel support beams. My stomach drops.

“Maitlin…” I start, but she sees where I’m looking.

“That’s right.” A grim smile plays at her lips. “I came prepared. The whole place is rigged. One wrong move, and this warehouse becomes our tomb.”

Eirik moves with deadly grace, positioning himself partially between Maitlin and me, but stops when her finger tightens on the trigger. “You’ll die too.”

“Maybe.” Her voice softens, showing the first crack in her hard exterior. “But I’m dying anyway, aren’t I?”

The warehouse falls silent except for the rasp of Maitlin’s breathing and the distant creak of metal. Our eyes meet and I see the little girl she used to be, sickly and scared, but always full of fight. If my life has been a tapestry of struggle and injustice, Maitlin’s has been worse.

“She’s not bluffing,” I tell Eirik, my voice barely above a whisper. “She’ll blow us all out.”

Eirik’s blue gaze holds mine for a long moment before he reaches into his coat. The Soul Stone catches what little light filters through the dirty windows, its surface shimmering with the trapped essence of countless Huugwor ancestors.

“Roll it to me,” Maitlin commands, her blaster never wavering. “Slowly.”

The sacred stone makes a soft scraping sound as it crosses the dusty floor. Maitlin crouches smoothly, her movements fluid and careful as she snatches it up with her free hand.

For a brief moment, our eyes meet again. The hard mask she’s been wearing cracks, revealing a flash of the girl I’ve known all these years. Regret shadows her features, making her look young and vulnerable.

“This is goodbye, isn’t it?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“It always was.” Her voice catches. “One way or another.”

She pockets the Soul Stone and retrieves a small device from her pocket. A flick of her wrist follows and a metallic click echoes through the warehouse, followed by the first warning beep.

“Run,” she says simply.

Neither of us needs to be told twice. Eirik’s arms lock around my waist as he sprints for the exit. Behind us, I hear the distinctive sound of Maitlin’s grappling hook deploying—her favorite escape tool.

The first explosion rocks the warehouse just as we clear the door. The chain reaction starts instantly, a cascade of fire and destruction racing through the building’s support structure. The ground trembles beneath our feet as more charges ignite.

Eirik throws us behind an abandoned transport as debris rains down. The warehouse groans, a deep metallic death rattle, before collapsing in on itself with a thunderous roar.

When the dust finally settles, an eerie silence descends. I push myself up on shaking arms, staring at the destruction before us. The warehouse is nothing but a smoking pile of rubble.

Maitlin is gone. And with her, the Soul Stone.

“We need to move.” Eirik’s voice is tight with barely contained rage. “She won’t have gone far.”

But we both know it’s not true. Maitlin is the best spy in Tartarus for a reason. She’ll be long gone before we can pick up her trail.

We make our way through the darkening streets of Tartarus, keeping to the shadows. The sound of people rushing to witness the disaster echoes in the distance, heading toward the explosion. Soon the lower districts will be crawling with people.

“What now?” I ask Eirik as we pause in a narrow alley.

He stares into the distance, his blue eyes reflecting the dim lights of the city.

“We go to Chancellor Ry.” His spikes ripple beneath his skin. “He’s our last hope to make this right.”

I nod, though my heart aches.