He listened quietly, seeming more sombre than I'd known him to be before. There was a framing of defeat about him, a heavy air of loss. His eyes dipped and then rose back to mine.

  "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "Tiberius and Crispus were good men. I never wanted them to take the fall."

  "No, you just wanted hundreds of thousands of people to die," I bit, finding some life in me, some energy returning.

  I flashed my eyes on his side, where he'd stashed his knife. A part of me wanted to rush out and grab the blade, cut his throat where he stood. I might be able to, before he could react. I still had my speed, after all. They couldn't suppress that without also diminishing my mental gifts. Or, at least, that's what I'd told them.

  I stared at it, taking a heavy breath.

  "Go ahead, Paige," said Brutus slowly, "if that's what you really want. But I don't think it will get you anywhere."

  "It won't hurt," I said, snapping back at him. "Henry won't care. You're a failure, foiled by a bunch of kids. He'd probably rejoice to find you dead. Save him having to do it himself."

  Once more, he nodded slowly. He cut a pitiful figure, his entire purpose in Neorome stripped away from him, his power and control now reduced to...what? Running around as his nephew's lackey? Bringing messages. Fetching tea.

  I laughed at the image, looking at the man with disdain. "You can't even deny it," I said. "Look at you. Look how pathetic you've become. You're just a bully, and a coward. And now...you're nothing."

  He continued to gaze at me, no anger in his face, no hate like there was before. He was just...taking it. Letting me punch myself out, say whatever I wanted. He seemed empty, broken.

  And then, came the real question. Why has he come?

  I drew another couple of breaths, realising that, though cathartic, I wasn't getting anywhere by insulting the man. I drew back from my hate, and then looked over him again. The clothes. The bag. The strange time of night.

  "Going somewhere?" I grunted.

  He glanced toward the door, though didn't answer my question. "Mantis has plans to visit you again tomorrow," he said, the words sending a shudder through me. "I believe he has more questions for you, though it could simply be for his own personal pleasure. I have spoken with Henry, and he says he's going to allow it. It is scheduled for tomorrow morning, Paige, before you start your day's work."

  I felt my skin growing cold, my blood icing over at the thought. My eyes fell, straining in anguish at the memory of our previous session.

  I can't go through that again, I thought. I...I just can't.

  "Why are you telling me this?" I asked, looking again at Brutus, my tone accusatory. "Is this your way of making it worse for me? Making sure I sit here all night worrying about it." I shook my head at the cruelty of it. "Is this how you're taking your revenge on me? Is...is this all your doing really?"

  "My doing?"

  "For what I did, for spoiling your plot," I said quickly. "If it wasn't for me, the coalition may never have formed. You may have already won."

  He managed a small smile. "Won?" he said quietly, introspectively. "I'm not sure we can win," he said. "Not anymore. I've told Henry as much, but he refuses to listen. He isn't the boy I once knew. He's become..."

  "Insane," I whispered, thinking of the fluctuations in the man's manner and mood, of the warped rhetoric he'd expressed.

  Brutus looked at me, a short silence falling. "What my nephew is trying to do here isn't possible," he said. "He has lived his entire life on this island. He doesn't understand the resolve that your kind have. They will never give up, and never give in. His cure will never be accepted. And yet here he is, wasting his time on this project, this vision." He shook his head, breathing out. "My brother would never have allowed it."

  "Your brother?" I said, staring at him. "Your brother was just the same. You all are, Oliver. All you want is to see my people fall. You are a family of mass murderers and nothing more."

  He looked at me, a new interest in his eyes. "You know my real name?" he asked, ignoring the rest of my words, refusing to engage with them. "Did Henry tell you?"

  I huffed. "No, not Henry. The man who killed your brother did."

  He lifted his chin a little, the stubbled flesh sagging beneath it. "Harkin," he said, without inflection. "He has a good memory to remember me. How did he work it out?"

  "I found your photo album," I explained. "The one hidden in your office desk. There was one of you and Winston there, when you were both young."

  "Ah yes," he said, an almost wistful smile building on his ample lips. "A keepsake I cherished." He sighed. "Though one I should probably have destroyed."

  "I didn't take you for the sentimental type," I said, challenging him.

  He frowned at me. "You don't know me, Paige," he said. "You have no idea who I am."

  "I know you're cruel," I said. "I know you're ruthless. I know that you care about nothing but yourself. Not even your own daughter."

  His eyes changed, shifting suddenly. They washed with a depth of feeling, of emotion, that I'd never seen from the man. "Artemia," he said quietly, turning his eyes to the side. His brows began to fall, posture sinking. "I would do anything for her." He looked up at me. "Anything," he whispered.

  I observed him silently for a moment, searching his face. I recalled the night he enacted his plot, when I'd mimicked his daughter. I had sensed his love for her then, the unconditional bond that even he couldn't deny.

  I saw the same now. It's not a lie, I realised. He's telling the truth. He will do anything for her.

  "How is she?" he asked, the strain clear on his face, skin paling slightly. "Is she...is she safe?"

  No, she was strung up alongside Tiberius and Crispus. She's dead, Oliver. Dead.

  "She's fine," I whispered. "Or...she was when I left."

  He let out a long breath, his relief profound, and unmistakably real. Despite my hatred for the man, I found myself softening my expression, my voice taking on an almost compassionate note.

  You're too nice, Paige, I reprimanded myself. This man doesn't deserve it.

  "I should never have left her," he said, his deep voice more gentle, reproachful in its tone. "You're right, Paige, I am a coward. I...I left my only daughter behind. The only person I truly care for."

  He held his gaze down, eyes creased in anguish. I sat on the bed, staying silent, watching, waiting for him to continue.

  "What will happen to her now?" he whispered, eyes creeping up, looking at me concernedly. "Is...is she under Lucius's protection?"

  I stared, not certain how to answer. "I...I'm not sure," I said. "I think Domitian wants Lucius to continue as co-Emperor, but...I'm not sure about Artemia. The city won't accept her remaining as Empress. She..."

  "Will spend her life in prison," said Brutus softly. "Locked in a cell because of me." He shook his head. "Perhaps death would be better."

  "I don't think she's going to be executed," I said quietly.

  He nodded. "I know," he said. "I know how these things work. Domitian and the other leaders will think they can use her as a bargaining chip, but that won't be possible. I...don't matter here, not anymore." He looked around. "This isn't my home. I have no home now."

  He looked at me. And who's fault is that? my expression said.

  "I have brought this on myself," he said, knowing, seeing that look on my face. "I know that. Artemia is all that matters to me now."

  He nodded several times, drawing a firming breath, and then turned his eyes on me once more. "You are my only chance, Paige," he said. "You are my bargaining chip."

  I frowned, not understanding, as he bent down and picked up the bag by his side. He held it in his hands, hesitating a moment, before nodding with a growing conviction. "You asked before if I was going somewhere," he said. He took a step closer to the bed. "I am. But, only if you leave with me."

  He stepped closer still, and unzipped the bag, placing it on the bed before me. I looked at it cautiously, before gently pulling it into my lap. I glanced inside, eyes widening.

  "My...my gear," I whispered. My eyes shot up at him. "How did you...why..."

  He raised a hand to quieten my voice. "You need to make me a promise, Paige," he said calmly. "You have to promise me that my daughter will be set free, and delivered to a time and place of my choosing. I have made plans to leave these shores, and will need Artemia to meet me on the mainland. We will head east together and never come back." He looked at me. "I need your word, Paige. I need you to promise me that you will make that happen. Do that, and I will set you free."

  I let out a breath, trying to catch up. Is...is this real? Is Brutus, of all people, the miracle I've been hoping for?

  I turned my eyes to the side in thought, going over his words once more, before turning back to him. "I...I have no power to do that, Oliver," I said. "I cannot make a decision like that."

  "You have much more power than your seem to realise," he countered. "This is the bargain, Paige. I help you get out of here, and you make sure that my daughter is released. You have to decide, and decide now. I will not get another window to help you."

  I looked down into the bag once more, reaching in, pulling out my headgear, my combat suit, my stun-knife and pistol. It was all there, even my gun-gloves. I felt a great swelling of hope burst within me. And yet, I had to contain it. I had to remember who I was dealing with here.

  I looked at Brutus once more, narrowing my eyes. "What's special about tonight? Why is this your only window?"

  "Because my contact will not wait, not with tensions as they are. He will sail tonight whether I'm there or not. I will not get another chance."

  I thought for a moment, then shook my head. "No," I said, looking into his eyes. "If you help me out of here, you have to come with me. I need a guarantee that this isn't some trick. That Henry isn't in on this too. That you're not just trying to use me to find my friends..."

  "This isn't a trick, Paige," he said, his voice growing more impassioned. I searched his eyes, almost hoping to find a lie. I could see no such thing. "I will help you get beyond the facility, but I cannot get you to your friends. I do not trust them not to kill me on the spot. You are the only one I can count on."

  "I'll vouch for you," I said immediately. "You'll be under my protection, Oliver..."

  "No," he said firmly, shaking his head, pacing. "No. I cannot stay on this island any longer. I have a target on my back, and if I stay, I will not survive." He stopped, looking at me. "That is the offer. I will get you beyond the facility, but it's down to you to do the rest. All I want to do is leave with my daughter. If helping you get out of here buys me another chance with her, it's a risk I'm willing to take."

  I absorbed his words, nodding slowly, letting a short quiet fill the room. At any other time, I'd be overjoyed to be given such a reprieve, yet given who I was dealing with, I had to remain cautious.

  I thought for a short period before turning to him again. "How would it work?" I asked, seeking further clarity on the proposal. "How will you get me out?"

  "Without trouble," he answered immediately. "I have seen how effective your mimicry technology is. Use it to hide your identity, and I will walk you right out of here."

  "And where is here?" I asked him. "How far are we from the city?"

  "Half a dozen miles," he said. "Southbank is to the west of here. I will lead you to the surface, and get you past the gates. Then, we must go our separate ways. I must head east to the coast. The rest will be up to you."

  "And if I'm caught?" I asked. "If I don't get word to the others about your daughter?"

  "You will," he said. "I've seen what you're capable of, Paige, and have every confidence you'll find your friends." He looked at me curiously. "Do you have a secret route you can use to get into Southbank?"

  I nodded, though didn't tell him where. I wasn't going to give the man any details, just in case.

  "Good. Once you return to your friends, send word to the Emperor as soon as possible. I will give you coordinates and a time to deliver Artemia."

  I nodded. "I'll deliver the message, Oliver. But there's no guarantee that Domitian will agree to it, not once I'm safely free."

  "He will," he said, seeming convinced. "Emperor Domitian is a lot of things, but dishonourable is not one of them. Bring him word of what I did, and he will agree to the bargain." He reached out with a meaty hand, stepping toward me. "Do we have an accord, Paige?"

  I hesitated again, still unsure if I could trust him, uncertain of whether I'd even find my friends. I held my hand back for a moment, taking a further moment to consider things.

  "Do you know what I revealed to Mantis?" I asked, returning to the very question that had plagued me for the last two days. "During my interrogation?"

  He frowned, shaking his head. "I am not included in such things," he said. "But, he did find something, I know that much."

  I gritted my teeth. "The location of the safe-house," I said quietly to myself. I shook my head. I have to get there, and fast. I have to know for sure.

  I looked back at Brutus. "What about other prisoners?" I asked. "Have any of my friends been caught?"

  "Not as far as I know."

  I looked at him closely again, searching for any deceit. It could be a trick, I thought, uncertain. But, to what end? There's no point in him helping me escape, only for them to capture me again. No, the only trick here could be if they intend to track me, follow me to the others.

  But even that didn't make sense. Tails were never effective if the subject knew they were being tracked. If this was a ploy, it was a dumb one. All the evidence suggested that Brutus was for real.

  "What else do you know that might help me?" I asked, still searching his eyes. "I need to trust you, Oliver. What can you tell me about Henry's plans? You say that you don't think you can win this war, but I've seen different. He seems...confident, somehow. He's planning something, isn't he?"

  "Of course he's planning something," Brutus said, almost laughing at the question. "He and the Controller, and the other military leaders. It is their job to defend this island, but whatever it is, I don't know it." He looked at me sternly, a little of the old Brutus reappearing. "I am not lying to you, Paige. I have not been included in their meetings or plans, so cannot say for sure, but it's wise to assume that they have something up their sleeve."

  I narrowed my eyes on him. "And if you did know?" I asked, a challenge in my voice. "Would you tell me then?"

  His eyes flattened out as he considered it for an extended moment. And then he shook his head. "No," he said, "I wouldn't. I am willing to set you free because I love my daughter. But I am not a traitor."

  I smiled at him, though managed to hold my sneer at bay. A part of me - a small part - wanted to throw this offer right back into his Variant-hating face. To call out 'traitor' and watch him cut down. After all he'd done, he deserved nothing less.

  And yet I had no choice. I knew I had to accept.

  "Well, child?" he said, pressing me for an answer. "We have no time to sit and mull this over. What is your decision?"

  I took a final second to myself, before standing from the bed, gear in hand. I looked at Brutus, his corpulent frame looming before me. "Turn around," I said. "I need to get changed."

  9

  I stood in my little room, wreathed in black, a feeling of power running all the way through my body. My armour clung to me like a dear friend, my headset settling into familiar grooves on my face. At my hip, my pistol sat snug in its holster, fully loaded, my razor-sharp stun-knife sheathed on the opposite flank. I bunched my fists, my energy restored, my mind clear. I was even wearing my gun-gloves for good measure.

  If this is a trap, I thought darkly, looking at Brutus's sizeable frame. I'll turn them on him first.

  "OK," I said, "I'm done. You can turn around."

  He swung on his heavy frame, a single eye lifting as he regarded me. "Impressive," he said, raising his flabby chin in approval. "Are those new?"

  His eyes fell to my gun-gloves, the rigging around the forearm and the contraption in the palm outing them as something other than regular combat gloves.

  I nodded, but didn't give any more information. I always liked to keep the functions of my designs secret, if I could.

  "I see," he said. "Well, I suppose you should activate that illusion technology of yours." He waved a hand. "The one you used when you impersonated my daughter."

  "I need a subject," I said. "I have some stored identities, but if you have someone specific in mind, I'll need to scan them first."

  He frowned. "Oh. I hadn't realised." He thought for a moment. "No matter. So long as you're with me, no one will question you. Just use a random identity, ideally a young one, and let me do the rest. Perhaps scan those clothes," he added, pointing at the white garments I'd been wearing. "It would be best for you to play the part of one of the workers."

  "I am one of the workers," I said, noting the slight irony of it.

  He huffed lightly. "I suppose. But your face is well known by the guards. Just use a random one and we'll be fine."

  "You're certain about that?" I asked. "It won't look weird if you just walk out of here with a worker, at this time of night?"

  He shook his head. "I know what I'm doing."

  "And what about your nephew?" I asked, looking anxiously at the door. "Is Henry not around?"

  "No, not tonight," he said. "He is at a meeting in the city. It is one of the reasons why this must be done right now. Your absence will not be noted until morning, by which time I will be long gone, and so will you."

  I nodded, though felt a continued strain of nausea at the idea of working with this man. Even if I trusted that this wasn't a trap, the concept of being helped by him still turned my stomach a little.

  "Just know that he will come after you," Brutus went on, drawing my eyes once more, as I began laying out my discarded clothes to be scanned. "Once he discovers that you're missing, he will do everything in his power to capture you again. My nephew has an unhealthy obsession with you and your...unique heritage."

 

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