The Madness Project (The Madness Method) (85 page)

“I will tell the world exactly what you are,” Trabin warned,
his voice a low growl.  “Stop now, or so help me, I’ll do it.”

If he’d thought that would intimidate me into compliance, he
couldn’t have been more wrong.

“And
her
,” he added.

I caught my breath and my mother’s eye, saw her subtle nod.

“Why wait?” I asked.  “I’ll tell them myself.”

“You will be disinherited.”

I could feel the rising shock of the Istian envoy, staring
from him to me as they tried to understand what was happening around them. 
Behind me, I sensed Zagger and Kor—I could feel their anticipation, their
resignation, their wonder.  And Rivano?  From him I could sense nothing but a
calm certainty.

I drew a thin breath and fixed my gaze on Trabin’s face.

“
Cursed the Crown that brought such grief to me
,” I
said.  “I renounce it.  After all, it was never mine to claim.”

“What—” Eskir started.

“Be very careful, boy,” Trabin said.  “This is your last
chance.  Stand down now, and I will forget all of this nonsense.  I will forget
it entirely, understood?  You will be safe, and your mother will be safe.  But
this has to end now.”

“Will it end?” I asked, bitter.  “Or will you just send
another assassin to try to kill me?  It’ll be easier for you this way, Your
Majesty.  I’ll be just one of the hundred-odd mages in this city you’ve vowed
to exterminate.”

His face blanched, then flushed red with anger, but he had
too much self-control to explode at me this time, in front of the envoy.

“Oh yes,” I said.  “I know that you’ve authorized the
wholesale execution of the mages after your so-called scientists extract the
samples they need from them.  I know, because they thought about doing it to
me.  They never did try, though, because they knew they couldn’t control me. 
They wanted to mute my powers, though.  The son of an Ace and a Maven, an
unlikely combination.  I think they call mages like me archmages.  Brings back memories
of Arnthor and the Scourge, doesn’t it?  We can’t have someone like that
running amok in Cavnal.  Especially when someone like that could have divided
loyalties.  Loyalties to his mother’s country of Tulay, maybe?  Or maybe
loyalties to his father’s country, Istia.”

Dead silence.

Then, all at once, Eskir stood up straight and drove his
fist against his breast, crying, “Godarson!”

The other members of the envoy stared at him, then at me,
then at Rivano.  Rivano nodded once, slowly.

“Godarson!” they echoed.

My heart hammered terribly, my mouth turned dry.  I knew
enough of Istian government to know that, if a Godar died, then in the absence
of a Moot to declare a new Godar, that title transferred automatically to the
Godarson, if one was alive.  Istia had no legitimacy laws like Cavnal; a son
was a son in the eyes of the Godartheng, even a bastard.  Which meant that, as
far as the Istian ambassador and his envoy were concerned, I was now the acting
Godar.

I swallowed hard.  I’d pushed Trabin to the edge, again, and
this time there was no way I could back down and smooth things over.

“Will you agree to my terms?” I asked.

“Your terms!” Trabin mocked.  “You are no longer the Crown
Prince.  You have no authority to speak in my presence.  You are nothing but a
traitor and a conspirator.”

“He is Godar,” Eskir said.

I winced.  I hadn’t wanted that.  How could I be the ruler
of a nation I’d never even visited?  A nation who had never even met me?  What
if they rejected me?  What if I wasn’t Istian enough?  I didn’t want to rule
anyone.  I wanted to…

“Run,” I whispered to Zagger.  “We’ve got to get out of
here, now.”

“Godar,” Eskir said, coming closer to me.  “You’re in
terrible danger.  That man intends to murder you.”

“You’re a Knack?” I asked, and he nodded.  “Come with me. 
You know he’ll try to have you killed too.”

“I cannot.  I swore an oath.”  He noted my confusion and
said, “I swore I would secure Cavnal’s assurances of our sovereignty, or die
trying.  I’m not afraid of death.  I’m Istian.  It was an honor to meet you,
Godar.  I will serve you as I served your father, to the end.  Perhaps I can
buy you some time.”

I drew a thin breath and nodded. 

“I have given my terms,” I told Trabin, but then I paused,
my declaration frozen on my tongue, my gaze holding his. 

Trabin.  The man I’d known as a father for seventeen years,
the man whose respect and acceptance had once meant more than all the world to
me.  He watched me, measuring me, waiting to see what I would do.  And I knew
he took me for a coward, worthless, a fool.

I said, “If you do not accept my terms, there will be no
further negotiations.  I am done.  I stand with Istia, and Istia stands against
you.”

I caught my mother’s gaze and mouthed one word at her:
“Run.”

Then I turned away, and with Zagger and the others close on
my heels, I made the long walk across the Leaf Hall.  Zagger and Kor threw open
the doors.

“Stop him!” Trabin shouted behind us.  “Stop them all! 
Traitors!”

All of the guards raised their rifles, but I reached out and
Pulled them away, sending them skidding across the marble.

“Another time,” I said.  “Stand back.”

“Your Highness!” one of the guards whispered as I passed. 
“You’re… you’re a mage.”

“I’m not your prince,” I said.

“Impostor!” one of them hissed.  “That was a mage impostor!”

My mouth quirked in a smile, imagining how they would stop
the rumors now, how they would divide the myth from the truth.  Was I Tarik? 
Or was I an impostor?

Maybe Tarik was already dead.

Maybe I was only Shade.

Chapter 17 — Hayli

I made my way back to the Hole, desperately hoping that I’d
find one of the lads hanging about, but instead I’d found Kantian’s body and an
eerie emptiness that chilled every bit of warmth from me.  I scoured all the
passages but the whole place had been abandoned.  The barracks were empty, the
mess was empty, cluttered with plates of half-eaten food.  A deck of Tozkorol
cards lay abandoned on a crate in the lounge.  I’d just come from my childhood
house, but seeing the Hole empty like this was more terrible by far. 

I climbed back up to the enclosure and poked my head into
the abandoned factory, but even that felt colder and darker and stiller than
ever.

I hugged my arms tight and turned around, and tried not to
jump when Derrin stepped out of the air in front of me.

“Hayli,” he said.  “Glad I found you.”

“Everyone’s ganned away,” I said.

“We got the kids all to safety.  The mages took them outside
the city limits, to the old aluminium smelter.  You know which one I mean?”

“The one on the river?” I asked.  “Out west?”

They’d abandoned it after they built a larger facility up in
the hills.  Me and some of the lads—or, the lads and me sneaking along
behind—had gone exploring the old smelter before, so I remembered it all too
well.

“The mages all scattered after we got out of Esobor, to hide
more easily until we found a place to gather.  I’ve been letting all the mages
I could find know where to go, and any of the other south-streeters who need
shelter, too.  So far about half of the mages have showed up, along with all of
the Hole kids, and some of the Bricks.”  He turned, scanning the enclosure. 
“Where’s Shade?  Did Doc see to him?”

“Yeah,” I said.  “He’s on his feet again.  He…he went to try
to convince the King to stand down.  Let us live in peace.”

Derrin laughed in surprise.  “Shade tried to get an audience
with the King?  He’s barking mad, that boy.”

I swallowed and didn’t tell him the truth.  “He sent me to
help rally everyone.  What can I do?”

He opened his mouth, then turned away, running his hand
through his hair.  I stared after him, my heart sick with confusion.  That was
Derrin, my Derrin, but…he’d tried to kill the King.  No, if Rivano was right,
the bullets had been meant for Prince Tarik, for Shade.  He’d tried to kill
Shade
.

But why?  What could have driven him to that?

I’d turned on Shade when he needed me the most, and I’d been
wrong.  I didn’t want to do that again, not to Derrin.

“Something bothering?” I asked him, following him across the
enclosure.

“No.  There’s somewhere I still need to go, some mages I
still need to find, but it’s too dangerous.  I wouldn’t send you in there. 
Trust me, Hayli.  But…”  His voice trailed off, and he turned to study me. 
“I’m afraid to go for them myself.  I had a bad run-in with some of that group,
and they might not be too happy to see me.  You, though, they might listen to.”

“I’ll do it,” I said.  “Just tell me where to gan.  This
crow is a bit cracked…she won’t mind gannin’ dangerous places.”

He smiled, and rubbed his thumb against his jaw.  “
Merko
,”
he said.  I frowned, because Derrin didn’t often throw foreign words around. 
“All right, listen.  Go and wait for Shade to get out of the palace, if—God
help him—he actually manages to walk out at liberty, and tell him where the
mages are rallying.  Then you’ve got to go to Billiman Square.  There’s a brick
building there.  You’ll know it when you see it. There will be some folks on
guard post outside the door.  Tell them a passcode:
Gantry
.  They will
let you in.  Then just find the mages inside and tell them where to go.  Don’t
tell them you know me.  They might not listen to you otherwise.”

I nodded.  “I’ll see you at the smelter,” I said.

My fingers prickled, itching to fly.  I gave Derrin a salute
and Shifted.

I wait atop the monstrous fountain in the palace square,
watching for Shade and the others to come out, praying that they will not be
arrested.  I know that what Shade is undertaking is treason.  My heart burns
for him.  Giving up an entire life is never easy, even when that life was shadowed
by deceit.

The sun shifts behind a bank of building clouds.  It will
not rain, though.  The air is too dry.  But the wind picks up, and suddenly I
know why.  Shade is coming, and he is furious.  A footman opens the door to the
palace and Shade—Tarik—strides out with the three men on his heels.  The guard
in the guard post has his ear pressed to a leather headset, a frown on his
face.  Danger sparks in the air, and I dive toward Shade, screaming.

“Hurry!” I say, landing on his shoulder.  “Guard!”

He glances back at the guard post and sees what I have
seen.  They all take off running, running for the carriage house where the
motorcar waits.  Any moment we will have the royal guards bearing down on us. 
I leave Tarik’s shoulder and fly just ahead of them, then swoop around to check
the drive behind them.  So far, they are safe.

I’ve done all I can do.  Now it is Hayli’s turn.

I landed in a running step close behind Tarik and the men,
just as they sprinted into the carriage house.  Zagger leapt into the cab and
Tarik didn’t even wait for anyone to open his door, but pulled it open himself
and shepherded me inside.  I sat crammed between him and Rivano, like being in
the middle of an electrical circuit.

Zagger tried to turn the car’s engine, but it sputtered and
coughed and that was all.

“Damn!” he shouted, slamming his hands against the wheel. 
“They’ve disabled the car.  We’ll have to make a run for it.”

It might have been funny, piling back out of the car like
jesters after we’d just climbed in, except for the terror of being gunned down
by the guards at any minute.  Tarik grabbed my hand, and we all took off
running for the west gate of the palace.  I’d scouted it out once, before Jig
and I had tried to get inside the Oval Wall, but it had been too far from the
aerodrome for our purposes.  But it was smaller than the South Gate, less
heavily guarded.  Not to mention it was closer to the palace itself.

We’d just turned onto the broad avenue leading to the gate
when the ground shook and a noise like hellfire hammered toward us.  Tarik
threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me down, shielding me and covering
his head.  Rivano crouched beside us, but Kor and Zagger stood tall, guns
drawn, staring at the sky.

I craned my neck to see what they saw, and swallowed the
scream in my throat.  An aeroplane streaked toward us, steam trailing its
engine like a flag, coming lower and lower and closer and closer.  The dust was
still falling from where its huge gun had blasted the road behind us.  Then,
suddenly, its nose lifted and it sailed over our heads, only to land lightly on
the road and sputter to a stop just ahead of us.

Tarik stood up, giving me a hand to help me to my feet.  I
glanced at his face and grinned, because I knew we both remembered the last
time this had happened, and how I’d shoved his hand away.  This time I took it,
and held onto it once I’d got to my feet.  Then we turned and watched as the
aviator climbed from his cockpit and pulled off his goggles.