“Yes.” Alastair and two of his minions followed Ridley into the room. The other two remained outside. “They’re both capable of pulling magic, given they don’t have their AI2s anymore. The containment chamber seemed the safest place to put them.”
“You think it will hold them?”
Alastair laughed. “It was built to contain someone like you. I think it can handle a couple of regular people. I thought they might have tried something by now, but clearly they’ve noticed the walls are made of arxium. They’re sensible enough to know that any conjurations they throw around will rebound back on them.”
“I want to talk to them,” Ridley said immediately. “I want to know they’re alive, and that this isn’t some recording you’re showing me.”
“Of course. We’ll be heading down there soon, since the containment chamber will become your new home once they’re out. You and I just need to get a few details ironed out first.”
“No. I want to speak to them first. You must have set things up so you can communicate with people in the chamber.”
Alastair frowned. “You’re not in a position to make demands, Ridley. You don’t have the upper hand here. Stray from our agreement, and your father and grandfather will pay for it with their lives.”
Ridley pressed her lips together, considering what to say next. “I believe you. And can you imagine the devastation my broken-hearted elemental self will wreak upon this place before you manage to restrain me? That’s if you can restrain me. You might save your city by getting rid of me, but you won’t be around to see it. You’ll be dead too.”
Alastair appeared to consider this. Then he approached the long, blank screen that ran the length of the wall beneath all the other screens. He touched it. It lit up, displaying numerous buttons and dials. He tapped one and said, “Maverick, I have someone here who’d like to speak to you.”
Ridley’s eyes shot immediately to the screen that showed Dad and Grandpa. Dad turned on the spot, looking up and around. “Who?” he asked, his voice issuing from somewhere above the screens.
Though Ridley’s insides remained tightly wound, a weight lifted from her shoulders. Dad and Grandpa were okay. They would get out of here. They would survive. “It’s me, Dad,” she said, stepping closer.
On the screen, she watched Dad ball his hands into fists. “Ridley, dammit, you’re not supposed to be here. What are you thinking? You should be—”
“Dad, I trust you,” Ridley interrupted. “I trust you and Grandpa to take care of yourselves. You have to trust me too.”
“I can’t if you’re—”
Alastair tapped the control screen again, cutting Dad off mid-sentence. “Well, there you have it. They’re alive. Now, let’s get a few things clear. If you haven’t already told your elemental friends that Lumina City is not to be harmed, you’ll have to get back out there and do that.”
As Alastair detailed the time frame in which Ridley would need to make this happen, she looked down and did her best to block his voice out. Her fingers spread out at her sides. She didn’t push her own magic outward—the minions would probably tackle her in an instant if she did—but she tried to sense the magic that existed in the air in this room. In the materials in between all the arxium in the walls. It didn’t have to carry her message far. It just needed to be able to slip through the gaps beneath doors and around windows and get outside.
Send the signal now, she told magic. So bright and big they can’t possibly miss it.
“What are you doing?” Alastair asked. “If you—”
“Nothing.” Ridley relaxed her hands and looked up. Two of the screens—the one showing the entrance area and the one showing the wasteland side of the wall—flashed for a moment. A second later, thunder boomed overhead.
Alastair narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”
“Me?” Ridley asked innocently. “You’re aware there’s still bad weather out there because of the panels over the city, right? Lightning and thunder are normal around here.”
Alastair crossed his arms. “Have you told the rest of your accomplices that Lumina City is off limits?”
“Do you really think any of this is going to work?” Ridley asked. “So what if you lock me up and manage to keep my friends from attacking your wall? It’s too late now. Cities are already being freed. Archer has told the world the truth. At some point, even if I’m not the one to do it, Lumina City will be free.”
“That isn’t going to make any difference,” Alastair scoffed. “People don’t want to know the truth, Ridley. It’s too … inconvenient. They’ve become used to the way we live now. They don’t want to change.”
“People like you, perhaps. The rest of us are certainly not happy with the way things are.”
“And a small city here and there?” Alastair continued as if she hadn’t interjected. “Ha. That means nothing. We’ll get our arxium protection back in place soon enough, and the world will return to the way it should be. If not, then I suppose a particularly nasty storm or two might just have to wipe out those cities that no longer have any arxium protection. It’ll be a good demonstration for the rest of the world. Show them Archer Davenport is a deluded brat and it’s not safe out there after all. We have mobile arxium machines, so it won’t be too hard to bring a number of them together and arrange a magical lashing out of the elements the likes of which have not been seen since the early days following the Cataclysm.”
Ridley let out a disgusted huff of breath. “You would destroy whole cities all over again? You would kill thousands more people just to keep the rest under control?”
“To keep the rest safe, yes. I think you’re already aware of the lengths I’ll—”
A tremor shuddered through the floor and shook the screens on the wall. Ridley raised her arms to steady herself, her eyes flying to the screens again. Specifically, the one showing the wasteland side of the wall. Not one, but two great cracks raced through the ground toward them. The room shuddered again—more violently this time—and the screen blinked before going blank.
“What have you done?” Alastair demanded as he skidded sideways. He slapped a hand against the wall to stop himself from ramming into it.
“I guess I can’t control my friends after all,” Ridley said, excitement lighting her nerves on fire. So far, everything was happening the way it was supposed to. As crazy as it had all sounded when she and Nathan had put the plan together, it seemed it may actually be working.
“How disappointing,” Alastair growled. “I honestly thought you’d choose your family, Ridley.”
The two minions gripped her arms, and Ridley was impressed to see that one of them had produced a syringe already. She pushed her magic outward—right out—and it shoved them away from her. “I did choose my family,” she said. “But then I remembered they’re both far more badass than I am, and they don’t actually need much help from me.”
Her magic hadn’t done as much as it would have if she’d had the time to roll it into a more concentrated ball, so the two men were up again already. Air, Ridley thought as her magic swirled around her, and she vanished in less than a heartbeat.