Ascend (The Cure Chronicles Book 3) Read online

  Ascend

  The Cure Chronicles, Book Three

  K. A. Riley

  For my Father, his new knee, and his not quite as new (but very excellent) mind.

  Contents

  Summary

  Preface

  1. Dead or Alive

  2. Memorial

  3. Shock

  4. Plans

  5. The Toymaker

  6. The Palace Grounds

  7. Hidden

  8. Knight

  9. Ghost

  10. On the Outside

  11. The Oak

  12. News

  13. Privacy

  14. Nightmare

  15. Found

  16. Trouble

  17. The Road to Santa Fe

  18. The Train

  19. The Journey

  20. Impediments

  21. Arrival

  22. Settling In

  23. Reunion

  24. Miracle

  25. The Spy

  26. Lost

  27. The Caves

  28. Assignment

  29. Broadcast

  30. The C. D.

  31. Consequence

  32. Strategy

  33. Danger

  34. Enemy Number One

  35. Flight

  36. Exit

  37. Arrival

  38. Parley

  39. Last Night

  40. Departure

  41. Infiltration

  42. Face-off

  43. Epilogue

  Coming Soon: Fallen

  Also by K. A. Riley

  Summary

  Brought down by the trauma of recent events, Ashen Spencer resolves to step up the fight against her enemies in the Directorate. With the help of an unlikely friend, she infiltrates the Palace Grounds to steal a priceless object...only to find something even more valuable.

  With new strength, and faced with more challenges than ever before, Ash and her party begin to accept the grim inevitability of the coming war. Their allies in the Consortium must gather to take on the Directorate the only way they can: by revealing the bitter truth about the government that has lied to so many.

  But with an enemy who will stop at nothing, is victory even possible?

  Preface

  The last time I saw the boy I love, he was lying lifeless on the dirt floor of the hellscape known as the Arenum.

  I felt for his pulse, his breath, for any remote sign of life.

  But there was nothing, except for a quick, almost imperceptible curling of his fingers.

  A moment later, he was gone.

  A million times since then, I’ve told myself his death was a trick, an illusion. Finn is—was—strong, after all, and he wore a silver uniform like the one I’m wearing now. A uniform that enhanced his strength tenfold.

  Maybe, just maybe…he survived.

  But the truth is probably far more grim.

  Maybe I’m in denial.

  Maybe it’s torture to think I’m the one who ended his life, who stole him from this world with a blast of violent energy that came from a hidden place deep inside me.

  Maybe I can’t live with myself, knowing it’s my fault.

  But until I see a body, until someone presents me undeniable proof that Finn really is gone, I refuse to believe it.

  Because if it’s true, the last fragile pieces of my soul will shatter, and there will be nothing left of me but dust.

  1

  Dead or Alive

  My beautiful Ash,

  If you’re reading this, it means you won our battle. And that’s a good thing.

  Never think otherwise.

  It means that inside you is a weapon that may help our side win the coming war.

  There are more weapons out there, and many of them are secret.

  Some, like yours, are special. You are the only one who can wield it. The only one who can control it. It’s my gift to you, though by the time you read this, it may feel like a curse.

  Please forgive me for not telling you about it before our fight. I hope you can see now that I had no choice.

  I’ll be with you always, if only to watch over you from the shadows.

  I love you,

  ~F

  It was several hours before I came across the note that Finn, in his own inimitable way, had left for me. He’d concealed it in a pocket in my silver uniform—a pocket I only discovered in a moment of quiet desperation, my eyes burning with never-ending tears as I searched for a clue—any clue—as to how the most cataclysmic event of my life had managed to take me completely by surprise.

  I’ve read the note dozens of times. Looking, I suppose, for some hint, a coded message telling me he’s still alive and out there somewhere. Waiting for me to find him.

  I’ll be with you always…

  That’s what people say before they die, isn’t it? A sweet assurance that’s actually a lie.

  The dead don’t linger. The dead vanish, and we never see them again. Their faces slowly fade from our memories until we can no longer quite recall what they looked like in life. We’re left with nothing but disintegrating strands of the past as we clean up the pieces of our sorrow, pretending we’re strong when the sad truth is that we’re anything but.

  Every loss breaks us just a little more.

  My father.

  My mother.

  And now…

  No.

  I refuse to think it.

  The only reason I’m even able to breathe is my brother, Kel. The light of my life, sent to live in the darkness of the Pit with those known as the Consortium—old allies of my father’s. Rebels willing to give their lives to fight the Directorate and all it stands for.

  If not for Kel, for the fleeting thoughts of his smile, his voice, his joyful laugh…I don’t know how I’d so much as raise myself to my feet. As strong as Finn’s silver uniform makes me, right now I’m barely able to summon the strength to do anything more than weep.

  Folding the note and tucking it back into my hidden pocket, I let out a breath that sounds more like a quiet sob and curse myself for my weakness.

  People die every day. The rational part of my mind knows it.

  Still, I tell myself, Finn can’t be dead. He just…can’t. I’d feel it. I’d know it in my soul. It would seem like a vital organ had been unceremoniously torn out. I’d feel his absence as certainly as if someone had removed my heart.

  Instead, all I have is this hideous, tremulous uncertainty.

  “Ash? Are you okay?”

  I’d nearly forgotten I’m not alone.

  Rys is standing in the doorway as I sit, my body rigid as steel, on the edge of a bed that isn’t mine. It belongs to some former Dreg from Sector Three—a young man who died a few days ago in one of the Directorate’s so-called “Trials,” which are nothing more than glorified murders.

  When he brought me here, Rys assured me the residence would remain mine for as long as I need it.

  Ironic that my best friend who became my worst enemy weeks ago has somehow crawled back up to best friend status. He’s saved me from death on multiple occasions, watched over me when I was terrified and alone.

  Now, he’s simply a much-needed presence, though I would never admit as much to him.

  Atticus, the mechanical silver owl he created alongside an entire army of exquisitely realistic bird-shaped drones, is perched on my nightstand, watching me intently. Normally, having a set of cameras perpetually aimed at my face would seem invasive. But I don’t mind the owl’s constant presence. Atticus is the reassurance I desperately need that I still have allies in this screwed-up world.

  “Am I okay?” I repeat, lifting my chin to look at Rys. “No. I’m pretty damned fa
r from okay.”

  He nods, his jaw set in a tight clench. He knows he can’t reassure me. Can’t tell me Finn is alive, because he doesn’t know that any more than I do. Like me, he can only guess, only hope.

  But hope isn’t enough. Not anymore.

  Rys and I haven’t talked about the incident in the Arenum since I made my way, shaken and afraid, into this residence. Every second since has been a frenzy of thoughts and emotions, and it’s only now that I’m able to sit and breathe, though each inhalation is tight, each exhalation a futile attempt to calm my raging heart.

  “That blast, Rys,” I say, my voice wavering. “The thing that came from my hands—that blue flash of light—I didn’t know I could do something like that—I didn’t know anyone could.”

  “Neither did I,” he confesses.

  I pull my eyes to his. There’s sympathy there. Too much of it.

  The sort of sympathy one has for someone who’s lost everything.

  “Could he possibly have survived it?” I barely manage.

  Rys chooses his words carefully. “I can’t say. But I do know Finn a little. I know how his mind works. He understands the human brain and our capacity to focus energy the same way I understand tech and electronics. He knows how to tap into our most basic strengths and enhance them far beyond what most people ever imagine. And he knows the consequences.”

  “What are you saying?” I ask, heartened by the fact that at least Rys is talking about him in present tense.

  “I’m saying the power you used in the Arenum, the power he gave you—it was…intense. But Finn knew what was coming at him. So he probably prepared for it in advance. He was wearing the silver uniform, which may have helped, at least a little.”

  “May have.” I try and fail to force optimism into my voice.

  Rys pulls his eyes to the floor, like it pains him to be brutally honest. “Or not.”

  “Or not,” my lips repeat without a sound coming out.

  “He gave you a weapon. He wanted you to have it, for better or worse. He…enhanced you. Also for better or worse.”

  He’s right. There’s a weapon inside me. A strange, twisted gift from the boy I love. But I would so much rather have Finn than any power in the universe.

  “He robbed me,” I snarl with an angry shake of my head. “He stole himself from me. Weapons are no good to me if I have no strength to use them, no reason, no motivation.”

  “You will find strength, Ash. You have to, for all the people who are suffering and dying at the hands of the Directorate. I know it’s hard right now…”

  “No,” I snap. “You don’t know. You have no idea how hard it is. How exhausted I am, after…everything.”

  All I want is to escape the fate that’s been pursuing me for far too long. I’m more than tired. I’m utterly drained. The rebel who’s been gaining strength inside me is weary, and wants only to lay her head on a pillow and mourn the future she’s lost, a life she’ll never know.

  “I want answers,” I finally say. “I need them. I need to know what happened to Finn after…” I swallow, bracing myself for the next few words. “After I…did that to him. If he’s really dead, I need to find closure or I’ll lose my damn mind.”

  Rys steps over and sits down on the bed next to me and for once, I don’t distance myself from him. I don’t recoil.

  He’s earned my trust, if not my affection. He’s the closest thing I have in the Arc to family. And while I may never forgive him for the role he played in my mother’s death, I will admit, at least to myself, that I need him.

  He lets out a sigh, his eyes directed at the floor. “I will say this: I can’t imagine Finn meant for you to kill him. I think he wanted you to stun him, to hurt him badly enough to shock the crowd into confusion. He was counting on the mayhem to garner sympathy for you both—or to give you a chance at escape.”

  “A chance at escape,” I reply in a whisper, a thought racing through my mind. “And in the end, I only escaped because of you. Because of…”

  I close my eyes and see them: a flock of silver birds of every size and shape, tearing the Directorate’s drones apart like they were made of tissue paper. I can hear the screams of the crowd as they cowered in fear. The pounding of my heart as my eyes locked on Finn’s lifeless form…

  “Did Finn know?” I open my eyes and turn to Rys. “Did he know about your plan to unleash the birds?”

  He frowns and shakes his head. “He had some idea, but we didn’t have a plan. I couldn’t talk to him in the days before the bout; the Duchess had him under lock and key. But I suspect he knew I’d do what I could to help. I only wish I could have helped sooner. Before—”

  He stops himself, not daring to say the words “You killed him,” because if he did, I would certainly break.

  “Does the Directorate know you’re the one behind the attack on their drones?” My heart starts racing, panic setting in. “They must know. How could you hide a thing like that? You must be in danger. They’ll…”

  “Ash,” Rys says, reaching a hand out. But he seems to think better of it and pulls it back. “No one knows. I mask everything I do behind layers of misdirects, encryption, you name it. Everything I build is concealed from their eyes and their systems. There’s no known record of any of it.”

  “How is that even possible? How can you be so sure?”

  “I told you a long time ago, I’m smarter than those bastards.” He leans in close and speaks under his breath, as if someone is listening—though I know perfectly well he’s found a way to block them from hearing or seeing us. “I know ways of moving through the Arc that no one else does. I know about Conveyors small enough that no person can fit inside them, passageways large enough for small silver spheres but little else. I know every hidden corner, every drone, every new project the Directorate develops. I see everything in this place, because those fools allow me to. And I have bad news.”

  “Oh, God. What?”

  What could possibly be worse than what’s already happened?

  “My birds are far from the most advanced tech being developed in this place. You should see some of what they’ve come up with. It would make your skin crawl.”

  “Do I even want to ask?”

  He winces. “Let’s just say I’m hoping you never run into any of the Directorate’s ‘creations’ in a dark alley. You or any other rebels.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse. Which is why I like to counter their designs with my own.”

  I almost want to smile. Despite the grimness of what he’s telling me, he’s so self-assured, so confident. So…Rys.

  “Something’s confusing me, though,” I tell him. “If you see everything in this place…then why haven’t you seen Finn? Why don’t you know what happened to him after…I mean, if there’s a body…”

  He bows his head once again and shakes it. But when he pulls his chin up, he’s smiling.

  “What?” I ask, irritated that he’s amused by my sorrow.

  “I may be smarter than the Directorate,” he tells me. “But there’s one person who’s more intelligent than I’ll ever be.”

  I’m almost shocked that Rys would admit such a thing.

  “You can’t possibly be admitting Finn is smarter than you.”

  “I’m afraid I am,” he nods. “He orchestrated something miraculous in the Arenum. He wrote and, with your help, acted out a Romeo and Juliet story for modern times. The Aristocrat and the Brokenhearted Dreg.”

  “Romeo and Juliet both die in the end,” I say. “So you’re not exactly giving me hope here.”

  “Those two were young and stupid,” Rys chuckles. “You two may be young, but you’re no idiots. Besides, Finn loves you, and he’s strong. He’s not the kind of guy who just gives up the best thing in his life. He’s also not the kind of guy who lets the bad people win.”

  His use of present tense fills me with a brief, fleeting hope.

  Finn has to be alive.

  Or else…

&n
bsp; No. I can’t think it. I can’t allow that sort of grim darkness to enter my soul or there will be no turning back.

  As we sit in silence, Rys’s wrist implant lights up. He swipes a finger along his skin and a message I can’t read scrolls rapidly in the air above his forearm.

  He pulls his sleeve down, lets out a hard sigh, and turns to me.

  “What is it?” I barely dare breathe.

  “The Duchess has announced a memorial service for Finn. Tomorrow morning, in the Royal Gardens on Level Two-Ninety. They’re shutting down access to anyone who’s not an Aristocrat.”

  “What?” My heart thuds cruelly, my voice cracking as I leap to my feet, pacing frantically through the small room, my hands shaking. “No. That means there’s a body. That means…”

  He shakes his head. “No casket. No body. It’s not a funeral. They’re calling it a ‘Celebration of a Young Life Cut Short By The Forces of Evil.’ It will probably have little or nothing to do with Finn. It’s all propaganda to rally the so-called troops against the Arc’s lower forms of life.”

  “Against Dregs, you mean.” I stop moving, relieved, but only a little. “People like us. The Enemies of the Powerful.”

  “Yes. And I think you and I should attend the service.”

  “Are you nuts? I’d be arrested the second I set foot in that place. They’re just waiting for an opportunity to take me down. There will be cameras, drones, everything, just waiting to film my death. And this time, there’s no way they’ll put me in an arena to fight. They will want a swift end for the traitor from Sector Eight.”