“How do they know…did they do an autopsy of…they’re sure it’s him, right?” I ask, latching on to her upper arm and searching her face.
“Yes, I’m sure they would’ve checked…I heard the body was burned badly, but it was in his pod so… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you this right before the swank. Manus thought we shouldn’t say anything about it…”
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. You should go now…have fun,” I reply, feeling cold inside as I let go of her arm.
Nodding, she walks with me to the sitting room where Ustus and a few other agents are waiting to escort me to the ballroom. My hands are trembling by the time I arrive near the stairway of the ballroom. It’s virtually empty up here on the third floor, since it’s been cordoned off so that I can make my debut in a grand style. But now that I’m here, fear has my arms feeling heavy and my knees weak.
Breathing heavily, I’m finding it hard to catch my breath. Ustus, seeing my fear, asks, “Nervous?”
“I feel like I’m walking into an execution,” I reply, trying to breathe deeply.
“Just do as you’re told and there won’t be any problems.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you it was your execution?”
Ustus considers what I said for a moment. “Kyon is dead. Whatever you saw, or you think you saw, can’t happen.”
“What if you’re wrong? It feels the same, Ustus.” I wring my hands because I know that I didn’t try hard enough or this wouldn’t be happening. “What if nothing has changed? If you make me go down there, people will die.”
“We have orders to drag you down the stairs if necessary,” Ustus replies, but he pales as he looks over the balcony to the reception area far below.
“Ustus!” I say his name like a plea and see him stiffen.
“Manus is waiting for you.” He lifts his hand toward the stairs. “He won’t like it if you’re late. Are you going on your own or do I need to guide you down?”
I take a deep breath and compose myself. “I’ll go by myself, but if I don’t see you again, enjoy your flight. Baw-da-baw.” Straightening my shoulders, I walk beyond the sweeping curtains to the top of the staircase.
The scene below reminds me of the elaborate miniature ballroom I had seen in one of the picture windows at the Water Tower in Chicago. It had featured regal figurines gliding along an exquisite floor, dancing in rings from the mechanized magnets beneath it while the crowd looked on in admiration.
Chamber music begins to play, and as I stare at the hundreds of elegantly-attired people below, I realize that this is real. I’m now trapped within the display and there’s no way out. Composing myself for a moment, I see Manus step to the bottom of the staircase, waiting for me.
Descending the stairs on shaky legs, I search the crowd and the upper balcony. A terrifying sense of déjà vu is settling in, because I’ve already experienced all of this a little more than a day ago with grim consequences. One thing is different though, I think, taking the last few steps to meet Manus. I can’t find Trey in the crowd, like I could before. Holding on to that difference like a lifeline, I greet Manus with a formal nod. Extending his hand to me, I take it, walking with him to the center of the room as it clears for us.
Casting his gaze around, Manus announces to the assembly, “May I present Fay Kricket, Coriness of Rafe, Priestess of Alameeda, and in less than a fortnight, my consort.” Applause erupts from the assembly and heat stains my cheeks at the bitter pill I have to swallow. Gathering the train of my gown, I sweep it up over my arm.
“You look breathtaking,” Manus compliments, holding me in his arms as the music begins again. Leading me in the waltz-like dance that I’ve practiced with Tofer, I feel numb, like I’m still in the future, not the present.
“Thank you,” I reply softly. My eyes meet his briefly before darting back to the floors above us.
“You seem worried—you shouldn’t be,” Manus comforts me. His hand at my back presses me closer to him as we dance.
“Really? I look worried?” I ask, meeting his eyes again. “Because I feel terrified…so I guess worried is a step up.”
“Why?” Manus asks, his eyes widening in surprise.
“I told you…I saw you die here,” I reply, frowning at him for not taking this seriously.
“Yes, but you also said that Kyon killed me,” he counters with a smile, gliding effortlessly with me around the floor.
“I did. That’s how I saw it…when I was here before,” I reply, feeling off kilter because even the scent of him is the same as I remember.
“I took care of it…there’s no cause to worry. I want you to enjoy tonight. It’s our celebration!” Manus says, relishing the moment as he wheels us closer to the staircase again.
“Yes, you said that, but everything still feels the same to me,” I reply, tensing as we pass the steps.
“How was I killed?” Manus asks, sounding entertained. “Before I mean.”
“Kyon’s snipers were up there,” I say, indicating the second and third floors with a flick of my head. “He was up there, too.”
“So, he shot me from above?” Manus asks, looking around at the floors above us, amusement in his raised brow.
“No.” I shake my head slowly. “First, he killed your agents, but we didn’t know that they were dead until he threw Ustus over the railing. His head shattered like glass on the floor in front of us.” I pale, feeling ill. “Then, Kyon casually walked down the staircase, spraying the crowd indiscriminately with forty-caliber shells that tore some of them in half.”
Seeing Manus’s eyes narrow, he says, “Kricket—”
“When Kyon got to us, everyone who could run did, but they didn’t get far because Alameeda had infiltrated the palace and were going room by room, slaughtering everyone they could find, so running wasn’t really an option. But, you didn’t run…maybe you thought he wouldn’t kill you, but you were wrong. Kyon stuck the gun in your mouth and when he pulled the trigger…” I trail off, unable to continue.
A frown touches Manus’s face briefly. “I’m sorry that I didn’t take you more seriously. I see now that it must have been frightening to witness something like that, but you don’t need to be afraid. I will protect you. Kyon is dead.”
Before I can answer him, Ustus’s body hits the floor just in front of us; the blood from his crushed skull spatters in scarlet patterns on the bottom of my gown. Halting near his body, the look of shock on Manus’s face is as disturbing as the screams and gunfire that erupt all around us.
“You should try to run this time…” I say, watching his face lose color. When he doesn’t react, I shout, “NOW! GO NOW!” Pushing him hard in the chest, I try to get him to move. He just stands there with the look of disbelief still on his face, so I backhand him on the cheek. “RUN TOWARD THE GARDEN!” I yell at him, pointing away from where I know the gunmen to be.
Manus begins backing away from me, like I’m the devil. Then, he turns and runs toward the side doors, leaving me to watch Kyon descend the grand staircase, the muzzle of his gun igniting as it spews bullets like raindrops over the crowd in front of him.