Colm and I say it as one. ‘What other condition?’
Ballard winces, his watery eyes like grey pools in cracked rock. ‘The final condition is that we hand you both over.’ He pauses, maybe to let this sink in. ‘Unless we agree to all these conditions before the next doom moon, the peace offer will be withdrawn. The Saviour will order the mobilisation of a conscript army to fight alongside his Slayers. He says they won’t rest until every nublood on Wrath is hunted down. Extermination, pure and simple.’
‘The sting in the tail,’ Mendela says, and sighs.
My head pounds like someone’s taken a club to it. So this is how it all ends, I think dismally. I should have fraggin’ known.
‘And you’d do that? You’d hand us over?’ I croak.
Ballard just looks at me, stony-faced.
‘So that’s why those fighters tried to kill us,’ Colm says.
‘Huh?’ I glance at him. He’s staring at Ballard.
Ballard nods. ‘Details of the peace offer must somehow have reached here before we did. The Saviour wants you alive. The attempt on your lives was an act of sabotage by Gemini hardliners who wish to fight on regardless. With you dead, the peace deal is dead too. They will have known that my first act upon my return would be to place you in protective custody.’
I’m not sure I get all this, not fully, but one thing I do get: Colm and me, we’re screwed. I lick my lips. ‘What happens now?’
He pulls at his beard. ‘That, Kyle, is for the Council to decide.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Schroeder wobbles to his feet. ‘Let’s get this farce over with. Bring in the damn Slayer.’ He clicks his fingers at the guards by another door at the far side of the chamber.
They scramble to unbolt it and swing it open.
In walks a woman dressed head to foot in Slayer matt-black.
I gasp. Beside me, Colm lets out a strangled-sounding moan. Because it’s not every day you see a ghost. The last time I saw this woman was during the Facility raid, when Murdo Dern emptied his pulse rifle into her at point-blank range, almost cutting her in half. Yet here the High Slayer stands in her fancy black-leather uniform trimmed with fur, with her raven-dark hair and the cruel lines in her face no amount of powder can hide. A smile twists her full lips, and I see her obvious delight at our shock and confusion. Morana, High Slayer of the Barrenlands.
‘No fraggin’ way!’ I howl, gulping air, sending my chair flying as I lurch to my feet again. ‘You’re dead. I saw you killed!’
‘Only, as you see, I’m very much alive,’ she says, sneering.
Ballard grits his teeth. ‘You’re here for a reason, Slayer, so get on with it. Take your look. Tell us if you’re satisfied.’
She darts him a mocking glance. ‘Who are you again?’
‘You’ve one minute, and no longer.’
They swap glares, until she shrugs and turns from him to Colm and me. She steps around the table, coming closer.
‘Don’t be shy,’ she says. ‘Show me your handsome faces.’
I back up, but hit rock wall.
She glances at my brother and spots his heavily bandaged arm.
‘This merchandise has been damaged.’
‘A scratch,’ Schroeder says quickly. ‘Nothing more.’
Morana nods and her gaze slides across to me. ‘So alike, yet I have the feeling you’re the twist, Kyle. Am I right?’
I give myself a bit of a shake, conscious Ballard’s watching me.
‘I’m nublood,’ I tell her. ‘We call ourselves nublood.’
She shows me a mouthful of too-perfect teeth and laughs. ‘Oh, do you now? How dull. I think “twist” has far more of a ring to it. Now come closer, Kyle, and let me see you.’
‘Drop dead.’ I stay where I am.
Mistake. She looks at Schroeder. He curses and signals. Two guards grab me and shove me forward. I struggle. Nothing doing. They’re both nubloods and loads bigger than me.
‘That’s better.’ Morana peels off a glove. Her body armour creaks as she reaches out and turns my face this way and that, studying me closely. Then she strokes my cheek, her fingers cold and lingering, exactly as she did that day back in the Barrenlands when she’d captured Sky and me.
‘So tell me, Kyle, how does it feel to play such an important role in the future of your pitiful species?’
Her breath warms my face. I gauge the distance to her head to see if it’s worth trying for a headbutt. But she’s too far away and the guys holding on to me are too strong.
‘That’s enough,’ Ballard calls out. ‘Leave the boy alone.’
Morana gives me one last icy glare, then lets go. Pulling her glove back on, she turns and stalks back towards the open doorway and the waiting Gemini guards.
‘Very well,’ she announces, as cool as you like. ‘I will report back to the Saviour that you do indeed have his beloved sons.’
Ballard says nothing, just looks grim as hell.
Schroeder’s a different story – I reckon the man seems pleased.
Mendela hauls herself to her feet. ‘Is she done here?’
‘She is,’ Ballard says. ‘Take her away.’
‘I’ll see to it personally that our guest,’ Mendela wrinkles her nose at Morana, ‘is returned to the rendezvous point, with all the necessary safeguards so she can’t find her way back uninvited.’
Ballard nods, and Morana is escorted away.
There’s a long, ugly silence.
And I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding.
Our guards bring two new benches, one for Colm, another to replace the one I took out my rage and despair on.
‘Smash these,’ a guard warns, ‘and you don’t get more. Okay?’
I mutter at her that I won’t.
‘This is bullshit,’ I say to Colm. ‘Can you believe it?’
My brother’s not said a word since we were dragged back here to our cell, just stared into space and shaken his head a lot. So I’m glad when he finally looks at me.
‘It’s a trap,’ he says. ‘A clever one too.’
But I’ve also done some thinking since I quit smashing stuff.
‘I don’t see it. The Slayers must be dreaming if they think we’ll chuck our guns away and shuffle off to hold hands out in the Barrenlands. Once we’re there, they’d have us trapped. No way will the Council go for it. They’d have to be crazy.’
Colm takes a deep breath and hisses it out.
‘What?’ I say, irritated.
He clutches at his hurt arm and winces. ‘Kyle, this isn’t about peace or sanctuary in the Barrenlands. It’s about divide and conquer, setting brother against brother.’
I grind my teeth. ‘Just for once, can you speak plainly?’
‘Okay, okay. Look, I grew up a Slayer, so I know how they think. This peace offer’s fake, I’m sure of it. The Saviour has no intention of letting Gemini have a sanctuary in the Barrenlands or anywhere else. He just dangles the thought. It’s bait on a hook.’
‘And when we bite he’s got us trapped?’
‘It’s